


Limerence

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Explicit Language, M/M, Marijuana, Mind Games, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Child Abuse, Past Child Neglect, Past Child/Parent Incest Mentions, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Rape/Non-con Elements, Senpai!Hong Kong, Sexual Abuse, Underage Smoking, Yandere, Yandere Hetalia, Yandere!Iceland
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-02 19:50:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 17
Words: 27,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10225841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Emil Steilsson moves to a boarding school from his home in Iceland. His time there is mostly uneventful, but everything changes when he notices Li Xiao Chun, a quiet boy who girls seem to never get enough of. New emotions begin to surface, and others notice. Some time passes, and Emil falls into a hole he may never get out of.





	1. Void

**Author's Note:**

> its hetalia  
> and everyones a yandere because its cool.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emil notices Li. He begins to feel emotions he had never felt before.

Emil Steilsson stepped past the threshold of his new school with a bored expression stuck on his face. He gazed around the lobby, taking note of the scarlet curtains, and old-fashioned English design. It was nothing like his previous school, but that was to be expected, as his last school was a public one back in Iceland. This one was a private, international, year-round boarding school owned by British and American elites.

Don’t get this wrong, Emil was not rich. If anything, he was a bit more poor than the average person. Emil, unlike the 90% of people within Caroline, his new school, he was ushered in on a scholarship. He was, apparently, a lot smarter than he originally anticipated. 

Emil didn’t like rich people, but he did like that he was able to escape from his family, so he graciously accepted said scholarship. But now, arriving at Caroline, it occurs to him, as he is reading one of the pamphlets he had received in the mail for the first time, that he was to be boarding with someone. He was to have a roommate. Emil suppressed a groan. 

“You must be Mr. Steilsson!” A voice suddenly chirped. Emil looked up to see two teenage girls, one tan with her brown her pulled into pigtails, and one small and childlike. The tanner one seemed to be seventeen, but the shier one, the blonde, couldn’t of been more than fourteen or fifteen.

_ She must be one of the scholarships _ , he thought, remembering that the school only accepted senior-level students. 

“I’m Michelle, and this is Lilli. She’s a scholarship, like you!” The tanner one smiled. 

_ Michelle and Lilli.  _

“Nice to meet you,” Emil said with a nod. The one called Michelle immediately perked up, and Emil could’ve sworn he saw blush on her face. 

“We came to show you your room. Do you have everything you need?” Emil nodded again.

“Yes, I believe this is everything.” He adjusted the strap to his duffel bag. 

“A-Ah, okay,” Michelle whispered, suddenly flustered. “It’s this way.” 

The three students walked alongside each other to Emil’s dorm. When they arrived, he watched Lilli’s eyes widen at the sight of the door number.

“What is it Lil-- Oh…” Michelle stared at the door as well.

“What is it?” Emil asked.

“Ah… Sorry, it’s just… You got the worst person to dorm with.” 

The blond rose an eyebrow. “Oh? Who is it, a bully or something?” 

Michelle shifted uncomfortably. “S-Sort of…” She folded her hands together. “Just stay away from his bad side, alright? You’ll be fine if you do that.” 

Emil watched as the girls suddenly left, much quicker than they had came. Whoever he was rooming with, it was clear he wasn’t liked, but Emil wasn’t concerned. He had dealt with bullies in the past, and they tended to leave him alone for reasons he didn’t particularly care to address at the moment. 

He fished his key out of his front side pocket and stuck it into the hole, but before turning the key, he tried out the door handle and found it to be unlocked. He stepped into the room, admiring the minimalist feel and view from the windows. He gazed at the beds and discovered that he was not alone in the room.

A large, likely Russian, man sat on the bed closest to the door, reading a rather large book. Looking up from the pages, Emil watched as his eyes lit up with recognition. “Oh!” He put the book down and dashed toward Emil. “My apologies! You must be Emil, right? Ah, sorry… I was going to meet you, but I had no idea when you’d come.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Ivan, your roommate.” 

Emil stared at his hand for a long moment before grabbing it. He was nothing like those girls had described. 

“I hope everything’s to your liking… I tried my best to sort everything out before you came…”

“It’s alright,” Emil said casually. “I like it.” 

Ivan sighed, clearly relieved. “Thank God… I was so scared of making a bad impression.” 

“So, is that my bed?” Emil asked, gesturing toward the bed by the window. Ivan nodded.

“Yes. I hope you’re okay with heights.” Emil just shrugged. He never cared much for heights. 

It was very quiet as Emil sat his bag onto the bed, but the silence was eventually broken by a chime resonating from a phone speaker. Ivan pulled a phone from his pocket. 

“Ah… I’m sorry for leaving so abruptly, but I must go… I have a friend to meet with right now. Let me know if you need any help!” The Russian put on his coat and left after waving goodbye one last time. 

_ Strange,  _ Emil thought as he continued unpacking.  _ Either he’s completely two-faced, or those girls were just creating unnecessary drama.  _ The Icelandic boy eventually shrugged it off, and the thought left his mind. 

The rest of that morning, Emil slept. 

 

At around 13.30, Emil left his dorm to explore the school, taking time to learn about clubs he had no plans of joining and eventually wandering around the library to simply goggle at the utter size of the room. He was asked by an old woman multiple times to get a book, and he ultimately left by the fourth time she approached him. 

He found himself on campus, cloud watching, when the voices and giggling of two females filled his ears. He ignored it at first, but they eventually got louder, and Emil had to restrain himself from marching over to them and telling them to shut their annoying mouths. Instead, he just turned his head, and saw exactly what he expected to.

Two girls with blushing cheeks chatting with a boy beneath an oak tree. Emil could see the girls’ faces, but all he could see from the boy was the back of his head. 

_ He’s probably just some boy with a British accent,  _ he thought bitterly. Emil strained his ears to listen.

“S-So there’s this movie tonight,” One of the girls crooned. “And we were wondering--” 

“Would you like to go with the two of us?!” Her friend cut in. The boy was silent. “O-Or just one of us, that’d be… That’d be cool too.” 

Emil scowled. Just what he had thought; some girls flirting with Mr. Popular. He nearly left then, but suddenly froze when he heard the boy’s voice.

“Sorry,” He said, voice heady and monotonous. “I can’t. I’m really busy.” Emil turned back toward the triad, thinking that the boy must have godlike looks to receive that much attention without an accent. 

“Wha?” The girl who spoke last whined. “You’re busy?” The boy nodded.

“With what?” The other asked.

“Things. Stuff. Nothing that you need to know about,” He replied with a shrug. The girls squealed. 

“Ooh~! A mysterious boy!”

“How manly…” The girls hugged their book tighter to their chests. 

Emil could sense the boy’s annoyance when he sighed. 

“Yeah, okay… I have to go now.” 

The girls both nodded excitedly and waved to him as they dashed towards the doors. 

“Bye, Li!” One shouted.

“Bye bye, Li Xiao Chun!” 

_ Chinese? No way,  _ Emil thought, incredibly impressed. 

The boy-- er, Li-- watched the girls leave, his back still facing Emil. 

_ Come on,  _ the Icelandic boy urged internally.  _ Turn around… Let me see your face.  _ And as if Emil willed it with his mind, the boy complied and turned around, facing towards the direction where Emil lay. He nearly choked on his own breath. His mind suddenly went blank. He wanted to turn away, but he couldn’t. The boy would notice him if he didn’t, but he simply couldn’t do so. 

Emil’s face heated up, his cheeks taking a strange crimson tone. He clenched his chest with two hands and tensed.  _ What is this… I’m feeling?  _

The boy was gazing around at the trees nonchalantly when his eyes suddenly found Emil’s. Emil gasped and turned the opposite direction, still laying atop the picnic table he cloud watched on no more than a minute prior. Emil closed his eyes, not opening them until he was sure Li had passed. 

He watched the boy’s back as he departed, and let out a shutter when he entered the school. 

_ He’s so…  _ Emil couldn’t think of a word that described Li. Beautiful? Mesmerizing? Perfect? None seemed fit enough to suit him. For now, all Emil could think of was that, whoever that boy was, he needed to have him. He needed to hold him, to claim him, to press his lips against his… Emil covered his mouth with a hand. 

_ What  _ is  _ this? _

Emil had been emotionless his whole life, but when he saw that boy… That… Li Xiao Chun… Everything changed.

Nothing would be the same anymore.


	2. Happenings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emil meets Lukas for the first time. 
> 
> Arthur is having nightmares again. Francis comforts him.

It had been a few months since Emil first noticed Li. Since that time, Emil had discovered that, not only does Li have some classes with him, but that he also has the same exact schedule, if you didn’t count free period, where Li spent in art. 

Emil grew to become more and more obsessed with Li, and eventually admitted to himself that he was head-over-white-laced-boots for the transfer student. 

Emil and Li were nearly the same age, but for reasons unknown to Emil, he liked to think of himself as younger and less experienced than Li Xiao. Li just seemed so… Wise to Emil. There really wasn’t any other way for him to see him. 

Along with the major emotional development, Emil also learned some new things about his peers, such as Ivan. Ivan had a knack for leaving the dorm only minutes after arriving, always apologizing and saying something about ‘meeting a friend.’ Emil had no idea who this ‘friend’ was, and had no intention finding out, so he never asked, but he did recall noticing a blond nearby whenever he saw Ivan outside of their dorm. He couldn’t say who exactly he was, since the only time he ever saw him was when Emil saw Ivan. However, it didn’t really matter to Emil who that person was, so he never looked into it.   

Other than Li Xiao, Emil’s new feelings, and the business with Ivan, not much had happened. At least, until March 3. 

It was during Emil’s lunch period. Normally, Emil would be watching Li from behind a bush or something as he ate lunch, but Li had a test for trigonometry to make up, so he decided to go on a walk around the school (the teachers in Class 2D had quite the careful eye, so it wasn’t like Emil could watch him.) 

He had just turned the corner from the southern side of the school when he suddenly saw a trail of crimson stained into the concrete sidewalk he had been walking on.  It led to a small brick hut next to the dumpsters. Emil, of course, with his interest piqued, started towards said hut as quietly as he could. 

He pulled open the large wooden door and saw a blond boy drenched in blood pushing the body of another boy into the opening of the incinerator. 

The blond quietly gasped, suddenly noticing Emil’s presence. Emil blinked at the scene with wide eyes. They were both silent as the fire within the incinerator came to life. 

Emil cleared his throat. “Uh… You left a lot of blood out on the walkway…” 

The other boy nodded. “I’ll, um… I’ll clean that up, then. Thanks for t-telling  me.” Emil nodded too and shut the door in front of him. 

That was the day Emil met Lukas. 

 

☀☀☀

 

Arthur Kirkland was a snorer. It more than less irritated Francis, seeing as the Frenchman slept (lightly, I add) just 10 feet away. But Arthur wasn’t  _ just  _ a snorer. He tossed and turned, kicked pillows that somehow always hit Francis, sleepwalked, and even talked so loudly that Francis had to sometimes leave. But then there were the days when that loudness came in handy. 

Arthur Kirkland sometimes had nightmares-- throwing his limbs around, hitting things, sobbing, and screaming-- screaming words, names, and agonizing shrills. There are the nights that Arthur even woke up, shaking uncontrollably, and sometimes even unable to move. There were times where situations were so bad that Francis didn’t even want to imagine what would happen without him there. He could just only be grateful that he was. 

When these events  _ did  _ take place, Francis was never one to sit idly. He would always rush to Arthur’s side, sometimes even climbing into his bed, hugging him and stroking his hair lovingly as he whispered in his ear that it was alright, that he was okay, and would always be okay. 

Tonight was one of those nights. 

This time, Francis had, miraculously, fallen asleep, despite the Brit’s snores, and was sleeping peacefully until about midnight, when suddenly he heard an agonized scream. His eyelids flew open and he immediately leapt out of his covers, running to Arthur and kneeling beside his bed.

The Englishman was muttering something-- a name-- a name that Francis had heard many times before. 

“Alfred,” Arthur moaned as tears slid down his cheeks. “Alfred, Alfred…” 

Francis gazed at Arthur with sadness-filled eyes. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve what that man did to him, Francis thought dolefully. 

“Shh, shh…” Francis petted Arthur’s dusty blond hair fondly. “Shh, it’s alright. He’s not here, you’re okay.” 

Arthur opened his teary eyes and covered his mouth with an arm. “He’s still here,” He sobbed. “I know it. It was so real, it couldn’t of been… Why…” 

“Shh…” Francis climbed over Arthur, and slid beneath the covers beside him. 

“Why did that happen, Francis?” He asked grievously. “Why did he hurt me like that?”

“I don’t know, mon amour, I don’t know.” 

“I loved him so much, I really did… What did I do wrong?”

“You did nothing,” Francis assured. “Mon amour, you did nothing wrong. Know this, please. I don’t know why he did what he did, but what I do know is that it wasn’t your fault. Not at all.” 

“Are you sure?” Arthur turned to face Francis. “It really wasn’t my fault?” 

Francis shook his head. “Non.” 

“But then…” The Brit looked distraught now. “Why would he--” 

“Shh,” Francis placed a finger on Arthur’s lips. “Enough… Alfred is gone now. He can’t do anything to you anymore. I won’t let him.” 

“Promise?”

“I promise, mon amour. Now, time to sleep.” Francis slung an arm around Arthur’s back, pulling him close and tracing circles on his back with a finger. The Brit snuggled closely, burying his face in Francis’s sleeping shirt. 

“Thanks, Francis,” He mumbled tiredly. 

“Good night, mon amour.” 

 

The next morning, Arthur awoke the same he usually did-- cranky, and to the smell of French crepes. He climbed out of his bed with a yawn and ambled towards the unlit stove. 

He was gazing down at Francis’s creations when he suddenly felt two arms hold his stomach and a face press into his shoulder. Arthur sighed. 

“Francis.” 

“Mon amour.” 

“Is this breakfast?” 

Francis nodded. “I made it for you, mon amour,” He maundered sleepily, running his nose up the nape of Arthur’s neck. 

“Stop it, you perv,” Arthur muttered, giving no move to push Francis away.

The older blond kissed Arthur’s jaw affectionately, tightening his hold around his abdomen. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?” Arthur rolled his eyes.

“Whatever…” 

“I mean it.” 

“Are these blueberry?” The Frenchman nodded again. “My favorite…” His cheeks began to heat up as he realized that Francis had done it on purpose. 

Francis smiled. “Je t'aime.” 

“I know.” 

“Je t'aime tellement. Vous êtes si belle, tellement beau…” 

“Speak English, idiot.” 

“Vous comprenez, n'est-ce pas?” 

“Of course I do, but I would prefer it if you--” Suddenly, Arthur was silenced by Francis’s lips pressing against his. Francis slipped his hand up Arthur’s t-shirt, causing Arthur’s hips to swing back and push into Francis’ crotch. After a few long minutes, the younger man pulled away, saliva dribbling from his open mouth. He scowled. “Damn you…” 

Francis responded only by smirking. 

“If I’m late to class, I promise you, I will kill you.” 

“I can only promise that you won’t be late to lunch.” 

“Fuck… You…” Arthur muttered as Francis slid his tongue into his mouth. 

The crepes are left cold. 

 

In English class about four hours later, Kiku Honda stared at Arthur Kirkland’s empty desk, the latest Greek philosophy lesson going unheard. 

_ He is normally here,  _ the Japanese man thought, concerned, but he knew that, with Francis’s lack of presence, he wasn’t in any danger. 

_ Damn you Francis Bonnefoy…  _

Someday, Kiku swore, he would have Arthur Kirkland to himself. All to himself, he swore. And Arthur would love him. He would love him with all of his heart, and Kiku would do anything, and he meant anything to ensure his safety. 

_ Arthur, Arthur, Arthur… Don’t worry… I will get rid of that frog… Somehow…  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its hetalia  
> and everyones a yandere because its cool
> 
>  
> 
> America: Alfred F. Jones  
> France: Francis Bonnefoy   
> England: Arthur Kirkland
> 
> Je t'aime. = I love you.   
> Je t'aime tellement. Vous êtes si belle, tellement beau = I love you so much. You are so beautiful, so beautiful.   
> Vous comprenez, n'est-ce pas? = You understand, don't you? 
> 
> God bless Google Translate <3
> 
> Sometimes I forget this is a yandere story haha...   
> Want to know just what the hell Alfred did? Stay tuned ;)


	3. Cute Blond Lad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night was normally quiet on Christmas Eve. Why was this one any different?

_ December 25, 2014 _

It was around two that night. Most of the officers on duty in Lancaster Police Department were on overtime, much to their dismay. It was relatively quiet-- the only good thing, in Lieutenant Davie’s opinion, to occur then. 

He was organizing files dutifully in his office, listening to country songs playing on the radio, when his phone suddenly rang. 

“Lieutenant!” Davie pulled the pencil from his mouth and hit the microphone. 

“What is it, James? I’m trying to finish up.” 

“I-I’m sorry, sir… But someone just came in. Well, some _ ones _ . A woman… And a boy.” The blond rose an eyebrow, confused. 

“Her son?” 

“I don’t know… She asked for adoption papers.” 

“Doesn’t she know that there’s other places for that?”

“None are open, she said.” 

Davie sighed, taking a moment to think. He didn’t have time for this. 

“Sir?” The blond cleared his throat, ending his train of thought. 

“Send her in.” 

He gathered his papers, putting them into two separate piles before running a tired hand through his hair and rising from his chair. A couple seconds later, a knock came from his door. 

“Come on,” He asked, as warmly as he could. The door opened slowly, revealing a Native American woman with chocolate brown hair, matching eyes, and dark skin standing shyly next to the doorframe. Davie approached her welcomingly, holding his hand out to shake her’s. 

“Hello, ma’am,” He said with a smile. “I’m Lieutenant Davie. What can I do for you?” The woman made no move to shake his hand, but instead clenched the hem of her skirt. 

“Adoption papers…” 

Davie dropped his hand. “No problem, miss. Right this way.” He led the woman to a chair facing his desk. She took a moment before sitting down, watching him search through the desks for the right papers. 

“Okay.” He opened the drawer of his desk, now in search for a pen. “Can I have your name, ma’am?” The woman nodded. 

“Jones. Emily Jones,” She mumbled as Davie held up a fountain pen. He chuckled awkwardly. 

“Oops, haha. I guess this is all I have.” He went to put down her name. “Emily, you say? How old’s the kid?” 

“Fifteen.” Davie froze. 

“Fif… Teen…?” He looked up at the woman with a confused expression. She didn’t make eye contact. “Y-You sure?” 

She nodded. “Positive.” 

Davie stared at her for a moment before continuing to write, but eventually stopped again. “Ma’am, if there’s anything going on at home--” 

“There isn’t.” She looked as if she was trying to keep herself from exploding. “Please continue.” 

The Lieutenant was silent as he wrote down the child’s age, and was continuously silent as the mother gave him more information. He was at the bottom of the page when he glanced up and realized he never got a name.

“Excuse me,” He began with a low tone. “You never gave me his name.” 

She didn’t answer. Her hands began trembling. 

“Ma’am?” Davie began to feel concerned. “I… I’m sorry, but I really need a--”   
“Alfred,” She interrupted. 

“Alfred?”   
“Yes, his name is Alfred.” 

_ Alfred…  _ Davie thought as he wrote the name down. Why did that sound so familiar.  _ Oh. That’s right.  _ He suddenly remembered. 

He was a rookie cop at the time-- assigned to give a drugs speech to elementary school students in L.A. He, of course, had no interest in spending his time talking to people who really weren’t people statistics they likely wouldn’t understand, so his co workers, God bless them, decided to cut him a break and do it by themselves. 

He had nothing to really  _ do _ , so, while he waited for the talk to end, he wandered around the school aimlessly, talking to nice-looking teachers and greeting people who gave him attention. He was on the field outside when he saw a little blond boy, no older than seven or eight, sitting cross legged on the dirt. It wasn’t until Davie got closer when he saw the boy smashing ants with his thumb as the desperately tried to seek refuge in their ant hill. 

He was silent until the boy poured water onto the small mound, destroying the anthill entirely. “ _ What’re you doin’ out here, boy? _ ” The child looked up at him from behind his glasses as Davie crouched beside him. “ _ You know it isn’t good to waste water. ‘Specially in this drought. _ ” 

“ _ They’re pests, _ ” The boy said simply, screwing the cap back onto his bottle. He held out his hand. “ _ ‘M Alfred. Who’re you? _ ” 

Davie smiled and shook his hand. “ _ Officer Davie. _ ” 

“ _ A rookie, huh? _ ” Alfred said, glancing briefly at Davie’s badge. Davie smiled sheepishly. 

“ _ Yeah… Lame, isn’t it? _ ” 

Alfred shrugged. “ _ Better than being in school, that’s for sure. _ ” He dusted off his knees after rising to his feet. Even crouched down, he still managed to have a lesser height than Davie. That was to be expected, though. He was only a kid. 

“ _ Why aren’t you at the assembly? _ ” 

“ _ It’s boring. Why aren’t you? _ ” 

_ “Same reason, _ ” Davie said with a laugh. “ _ You know, I like you, kid. What grade are you in? _ ” 

“ _ That’s secret. _ ” 

“ _ Hmm? Why’s that? _ ” Davie asked as he stood up from his place on the ground. 

“ _ If I tell you, you can find out my teacher, and my mom’ll get called. _ ” That made Davie chuckle.

“ _ Wouldn’t wanna upset mama, would we? _ ” Alfred shook his head. “ _ It was good talking to you kid, but I should get going. The assembly’s probably over now. _ ” 

“ _ Alright then. Bye, rookie! _ ” The boy shook his hand one last time before dashing off to the front doors and into the building. Davie laughed one last time. 

He was an interesting kid. It had been, what, eight years since meeting him? Alfred seemed like he was doing fine. There were no bruises, from what he could see, at least. Whatever was causing his mama to ship him off must have happened recently. Why else would she be shipping him off? Only she would know, of course, and it wasn’t really his business, but even he had to admit, the situation was a bit compelling. Strange, but compelling. 

“Alright,” Davie sighed as soon as he was finished. “Sign your name here.” 

Emily nodded and reached for the pen, but before she could grip it, and before Davie even realized the door was open, a voice came from the threshold. 

“Mommy?” Emily froze and Davie looked up to see a blond, clearly fifteen, and clearly an older version of the boy Davie had met eight years prior. Emily swallowed something and pulled the pen from Davie’s hand. 

“What are you doing out of the waiting room, Alfred,” She asked without even glancing at Alfred. 

“I missed you, mommy. What are you doing?” The boy’s voice was deep, but his tone was curious-- like a child’s. He even tilted his head to the side as he asked the question. 

“Go back to the waiting room, Alfred.”

“But, mommy--” 

“NOW!” She shouted suddenly. Looking back down at her, Davie noticed tears streaming down her cheeks and falling onto the papers. She clenched the pen tightly, seemingly unable to write down her name. 

“Ma’am, l-let’s not make any rash decisions… Perhaps there is a way we can help you-- a way that he can help the both of you without having to--”   
“I knew it,” Alfred whimpered, his eyes swelling his tears. “You-You’re getting rid of me! Mommy, you’re getting rid of me!” He ran over to her then, falling to his knees and holding on to her arm for dear life. “Mommy, please don’t! Mommy, come on! Come on! You know I love you! I really love you! Don’t leave me, please! Don’t leave me, don’t leave me!” 

Davie watched in fear and confusion. He had no idea what was going on, but it was definitely more complex than he had originally thought. 

Suddenly, the mother pushed Alfred away, sending him to the floor beside the doorway. “Get away, you bastard child!” Alfred stopped crying then, and began to only watch Emily with wide eyes, clearly unable to comprehend what had just happened. 

“Ma’am!” Davie shouted, jumping to his feet. The woman began writing furiously, shoving the nib so far into the paper, Davie was afraid she would write in rips. Once her signature was made, she tossed the papers at Davie, breathing heavily. 

“Mommy…” Alfred mumbled, almost too quiet for Davie to hear. Emily was sobbing now. Davie watched her in confusion as she drew the pen to her neck. It took Davie a moment before he realized what was happening; what she was doing. He reached for his gun-- though that wouldn’t do anything. He was so bewildered. He had no idea what the hell was happening. Emily gasped and thrusted the pen into the nape of her neck. She wrenched it violently to the side, carving her neck a pumpkin. Blood spilled from the trail, and crimson stained her yellow t-shirt and jacket. She jerked it from her neck. Claret spewed from the hole, showering Davie. She dropped her pen, and soon her body followed. Her eyes rolled back and the last bit of breath left her lungs and she was sprawled across the floor, lying in a pool of her own ichor. 

Davie screamed. Alfred was silent. It wasn’t long before someone had ran into the office and screamed too. They picked up Alfred from the floor. He was like a zombie walking into the hallway. No reaction on his part other than his utterance of the word ‘mommy.’ Davie couldn’t breath. Sure, he had seen people die before, but never like that, and never in front of her own son. He stumbled away from his workspace making it down the hallway and into the lobby before collapsing himself in a faint. 

Hours later, Davie sat in one of the lobby chairs next to Alfred, who was still silent and lifeless. God knows what was going through his head. 

The medical examiner assumed she had some mental issue that caused her to do that, and didn’t think a further investigation was necessary. They did, however, find the adoption papers, and decided to conclude that she was simply committing suicide out of the grief of letting go of her child. Who knew… Maybe that was the reason. 

Davie glanced at zombie Alfred one last time before pulling the handgun from his holster and shooting himself in the mouth. 

 

Alfred had forgotten that event in the two years that passed. Once he turned seventeen, he was enrolled in Caroline by his foster mother, and the school board thought that it was “quite amazing how easy Alfred handled the situation,” so he was excepted in, and had been there for a year or so since. It was never hard to fit in. A hot, blond American attracted many eyes, and therefore, a lot of attention. Positive attention, at that. His life was easy now. He even had a pet to play with. 

His life was easy now. No pestering mom, who he loved oh so dearly. He gave her his life-- it was quite saddening to see her move on. So sad. He hoped that Hell wasn’t too bad. 

She used to be okay. 

His life was easy now. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw, I'm a terrible person. 
> 
> its hetalia  
> and alfred is a psycho because its cool


	4. Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred is tired of Gilbert snooping around him and Ivan.   
> Emil feels jealousy for the first time.

People sucked-- at least in Alfred’s opinion. Humans, to him, were nothing more than miserable brats with daddy issues. And by ‘daddy,’ he meant God. 

He never quite understood why people had a strange fixation on the guy. After all, he’s God. He probably had better things to do than watch people cry, whine and fuck. It was as if people felt they were special, which they really weren’t. Humans were just another disaster evolution cooked up and nothing more. Alfred had already accepted that, and found it annoying that most people hadn’t yet. 

People were nothing more than animals, so, in a sense, people were not divided by race and gender, but by only two categories; predator and prey. Most people were prey, obviously. Society was built on pointless grounds called ‘peace,’ which was really stupid-- no human was truly peaceful-- yes, some pretended, but it was never real. Everyone was an animal deep down. There were just ones that chose to embrace that beast; embrace their true nature. Alfred was one of them.

He embraced his inner animal when it was appropriate, but luckily, he was blessed with enough intelligence to know that it wouldn’t be wise to do so outside of the met times. 

This was one of these times. 

Alfred followed his prey silently, matching his steps while still managing to look as casual as possible. The man he was following was clearly agitated. His steps were practically stomps, and he was muttering-- something about an idiot brother-- Alfred didn’t really know, but he also didn’t really care. He continued to follow the German until they arrived in a desolate area in the academy. There, he suddenly stopped. He shuffled his feet to reveal his being there, and the man heard immediately. 

Gilbert spun around, meeting eyes with Alfred, and scowled. 

“You,” He spat. “What do you want?” Alfred didn’t even flinch.

“I want to know where you are going.” 

Gilbert gave him an annoyed look. “Like hell I’m gonna tell you. You’ll probably make it there before me and set up some trap to kill me.” 

Alfred cocked his head. “Now, why would I do that when I could just kill you here?”

“Fuck off, Alfred,” The albino snapped. He really wasn’t in the mood for Alfred’s games. Gilbert started toward Alfred, intending to return to the more populated area of the academy, when Alfred grabbed his arm and pulled him back. He grasped Gilbert’s chin with a smirk. 

“What crude language. I should rip out that tongue of yours.” Alfred drew his finger across the German’s lips. “Don’t you think so, Beilschmidt?” Said man’s scowl deepened as he shoved the American away.

“I  _ say _ , fuck off.” He continued back down the hallway when Alfred suddenly called after him.

“You were going to meet Ivan at his class weren’t you?” Gilbert froze. “Why, Gilly, that just isn’t right. He is a taken man, you know.” 

“I was  _ not _ going to see Ivan,” Gilbert growled, turning back towards Alfred. “If you really must know, I was going to see Rod. He wanted to speak with me.” 

“Roderich is in class right now,” Alfred smirked. “On the opposite end of the school.” 

Gilbert then went silent, his face growing pale. He opened his mouth to reply, but eventually just stomped his foot and stormed away. Alfred watched him leave, a growing bitterness forming in his chest.

He hated Gilbert-- probably much more than even Francis, if that were possible. Gilbert was arrogant, snide and downright irritating. And if that weren’t enough, he liked Ivan. Why? Alfred had no idea. Ivan certainly wasn’t specially-- just a passive aggressive Russian who cared too much for his sisters, and who belonged to none other than Alfred himself. Of course, not many people knew that, but Gilbert did. 

Somehow that  _ worm  _ had went as far into both Alfred and Ivan’s lives that he knew, not just about Alfred’s true nature, but the real relationship the two men had. Gilbert, of course, opposed it, but he couldn’t really do anything if Ivan refused his help, which Ivan did. 

It was sad. Much to the American’s confusion, Ivan really loved Alfred. It was a strange, dangerous and scary sort of love, but it existed. Alfred didn’t know if he felt the same way Ivan did, but he was definitely not about to let him go. No. Ivan was his and his only, and Gilbert wasn’t going to ruin that. 

Unfortunately, however, Ivan also had taken a liking towards Gilbert, and would probably be furious if Alfred did something to him, so he could not treat Gilbert as if he was any of the other people who had taken a liking to Ivan. That brings Alfred to his second issue: Emil Steilsson. 

Alfred honestly had no idea who he was, or what he was really doing with Ivan with Alfred around. That made said American nervous. To Alfred, this “Emil” was beginning to seem like a threat, and Alfred didn’t like threats. 

Emil didn’t seem very important to Ivan, so killing him wouldn’t be a problem on those grounds, but Alfred also had no idea just what the kid did throughout the day. He had tried to follow Emil a few times, but he always lost him somehow. The only option that was really left was to kill him while he was sleeping in the dorm. At least then he knew that the only person who had a chance of was Ivan, who would forgive him eventually. Emil was a nobody. 

With this new idea in his mind, Alfred decided it would be best to do it in a few nights, so that he would have enough time to learn more about him. 

_ This will be easy,  _ Alfred thought.  _ He’s so small, it’ll be nothing more than squashing a bug.  _ He smirked. 

_ I’m afraid your time is up “Emil Steilsson.”  _

====

Li Xiao stepped out of his dorm room with a sigh. He felt another cough in his throat, but refused to make a scene and worry a teacher-- a teacher who could mention something to Yao, Li’s brother. Yao was a control freak, to say the least. Li used to live with Yao back in his home in China, but eventually moved to England when Yao’s nagging became to0 much to handle. 

He loved being out on his own, but missed China nonetheless. Sure, England was great, but he stuck out there. Back in China, he was just a person. In London, he was an alien. 

_ Well, it’s not as bad as America.  _ He had heard rumors of what people there acted towards foreigners. Eyes pointed at you, scowling faces, children shouting, “Go back to your country!” at the top of their lungs. In England, people just ogled at you. It was kind of annoying.  _ Still better than America.  _

“Li!” Said student turned, facing the woman who had called for him. She grinned at him upon stopping. “I haven’t seen you all day.” 

Li shrugged. “I just had a cold. Nothing major. How’re you doing, Sakura?” 

“Alright. You’re sure you’re feeling okay?” Li nodded.

“I’m fine. Want to walk with me to class?” 

Sakura nodded and adjusted the straps to her backpack. “Sure.” 

As the two began to walk away, Li couldn’t help but notice a pink letter in the girl’s hand. 

“What’s that?”

“Oh?” Sakura looked at the envelope. “Oops, right. Just another letter from an admirer.”

“Another one?” Li asked, an eyebrow raised. “Well, hello, Little Miss Popular.” She blushed again.

“Ah, it’s nothing… I guess people just think I’m innocent.” Li chuckled. 

“Well, you certainly aren’t that. How’s Amelia?” 

“Annoying,” She sighed. “Every time I videochat her she just complains about how I’m not there and makes lewd comments…” Her voice dropped when she said “lewd.” 

“She just misses you, that’s all. You’re her girlfriend.” 

“Well, yeah, but I wish she would just cut out the innuendos.” 

Li laughed. 

As the two walked on, just a few feet away, Emil watched from behind a corner, trembling and twitching uncontrollably. Questions flew through his mind like bullets. Who was she? Why was she talking to Li? Blushing and flaunting her… Devices… She was flirting with him, clearly. Why else would she be speaking to him? 

Jealously quickly turned to anger upon seeing Li’s laugh. A genuine laugh. Not that sarcastic and drawn-out laugh he used for people he wished to escape from, but a warm, genuine laugh. 

Emil’s features darkened. Nobody was supposed to ever hear that. Nobody but him. And for that… That pig. Emil could see a cloud form around the two. Something sat between them, and Emil knew what it was. Lust. It was lust-- and it was mutual. Why her? Why not someone more deserving, like Emil?

Emil would never feel that way towards Li, never. He loved him with all of his heart. It wasn’t just animalistic urges, like that woman’s feelings were based on. If she was going to act like that-- like an animal-- well, Emil would just have to… Put her down… 

He slid down the wall, his breaths shallow. He had to do something about her, but what? His lack of emotion in general gave him plenty of capability to kill her, but it wasn’t like he had strength to do so. He wasn’t very adept physically, but mentally, he could do just about anything. He’d have to do something simple-- like poison or a simple stabbing. He wasn’t very fond of guns, and she was likely much weaker than Emil, so stabbing seemed to be the most easy and enjoyable way for her to go out. 

All he needed was her schedule. Then he’d be on his way.  _ Soon.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh. Emil's in trouble... Oh yeah, Sakura too.
> 
> Sakura Honda: Fem!Japan  
> Amelia Jones: Fem!America  
> (Amelia will not show up-- Sakura isn't a main character. Sorry to disappoint Nyotalia and Ameripan fans.)


	5. Nice to Meet You, I'm Your Stalker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred goes to take care of his issue.  
> Emil is met with his greatest fear.

Alfred tiptoed silently towards the entrance of his dorm, past his bed and Ivan’s sleeping form. He had snuck out of his room with Ivan there before, of course, but his reasons for leaving were especially important this time. That night he was going to kill Emil, Ivan’s roommate, for being a threat to their relationship and a cock-block of sorts. 

Alfred remembered the days he could come into Ivan’s room freely-- the days before Emil arrived. He sometimes even skipped class if he was feeling particularly horny-- he would sneak down the corridors and into Ivan’s room, where he would fuck Ivan so hard, they both would lose the ability to walk right for a week. Oop, maybe now wasn’t the best time to think about that, Alfred considered as he felt a growing warmth in his pants. 

He pushed the oak door open with the palm of his hand, gladdened he had left it open earlier that night to insure silence. In just a few minutes, he had arrived in Ivan’s dorm. Passing the unnecessary large bed that belonged to Ivan, he approached Emil’s. 

The boy’s body was not physically visible, but by the lumps beneath the covers, it was easy to tell where he was lying, and where his organs were placed. The blond crawled onto the bed, slowly raising his knife. He dropped his voice to a whisper.

“Well,” He began. “Sorry, I guess.” And he drove the knife down. 

The blade entered Emil’s body rather easily--  _ Too easily,  _ Alfred thought, concerned. He wrenched the knife out of the boy’s abdomen, noticing a cotton wad stuck into the point. The softness of his body was abnormal as well. He smirked, pulling back the covers. There, lay a pile of pillows in place of Emil. Alfred held his hand to his mouth, stifling a laugh. 

_ Such an idiot,  _ Alfred thought.  _ I’m such an idiot.  _

He stepped off the bed, glancing up at the wall clock above the bed frame.  _ 2.00. Huh.  _

_ Where could he be? _ _  
_ ===

Emil waited beside Sakura’s door patiently, knife, drawn to his chest, and eyes watching the clock. It was nearing dawn. He had sat out there since 21.00, and tiredness slowly swept over him as the minutes passed. He felt his body grow heavier and heavier, until his body became nothing more than a weight he wasn’t fond of carrying. It wasn’t until 5.00 when he dropped his knife, eventually collapsing and landing atop it. 

Hours later-- and he meant  _ hours _ later-- he awoke to the sound of a frantic woman’s voice and the feeling of being shaken. 

“Hello?! Excuse me, please wake up! Mister, please wake up!” 

Emil let out a hushed groan. It took him a moment for his vision to focus. Once it did, he looked up to find…  _ Sakura.  _

“Oh, thank goodness!” She cried, holding her hand to her chest as she took deep breaths. “I couldn’t feel a pulse! I thought you were dead! Are you okay?” 

Emil studied her features for a moment before nodding. “Yeah,” He mumbled, pushing himself up from the ground. She let out a relieved sigh. 

“He’s okay! Ah…” 

“Why was he outside of your room in the first place?” Emil suddenly froze. He recognized that voice. That beautiful, monotone voice with a twist of Chinese inflection.  _ Li.  _ Emil felt his face warm with blush.

“Li! Can’t you see he’s hurt? We’ll worry about that later…” Sakura slung Emil’s arm around her shoulders and helped him up. “What’s your name, sir?” Emil tensed. He didn’t know if he could speak in front of Li. “Sir?”

“Emil,” The young student muttered, eyes pointed at his feet. Li rose an eyebrow. 

_ He’s kind of… Cute.  _

“Okay, Emil,” Sakura looked at him worriedly. “Can you walk?” He nodded, and she removed her arm.    
“What happened?” Li asked, subtly eying Emil’s chest and nether regions. Sakura shot him a glare, which he responded to with a shrug.

“I… Fell asleep.” Emil shifted his weight uncomfortably. 

“Outside of Sakura’s dorm?” Li questioned, crouching down slightly to get a view of Emil’s face. He noted Emil’s tousled platinum hair in his mind; how he desperately needed a haircut, but still managed to look effortlessly beautiful-- his unique eyes that took a shade of both plum and orchid, his pale white skin painted crimson on the apples of his cheeks. He looked flustered. Weird. But Li didn’t mind it. Shy suited him. 

“I sleepwalk sometimes,” He replied with a shrug. Emil didn’t want to look at Li-- he didn’t want him to see how red his face was; how nervous he was-- but at the same time, he wanted to see the look in Li’s eyes. After all, this  _ was  _ the first time Li met with him face-to-face. Emil decided to take the latter. 

So he glanced up for the first time, and met Li’s eyes. Said man felt the air knock out of his lungs. He was right. Emil was gorgeous. On the other end of the staring contest, Emil felt the same, except for the anxiety settling in his chest from being unable to read Li’s face, despite the pink dusting his cheeks-- that could’ve been anything, he did say he had a cold that one day. 

The men continued to stare into each other’s eyes until Sakura finally cleared her throat. She had a slight smile on her lips. “Well then,” She grinned. “I’m glad you’re okay, but we must go now. Come, Li.” 

Li coughed into his fist. “‘Kay.” And with that, the two walked away. 

Emil’s eyes followed. He had made Li uncomfortable… That was the only explanation for why he acted like that. Emil had put him off. Suddenly, he tensed.  _ The knife.  _

He looked back down at the spot he collapsed in, only to find that the knife was gone. He frowned. 

_ Where did it…  _ He blinked, bewildered.  _ Where the hell did it go? _

==

Sakura wouldn’t stop squealing. She wouldn’t stop smiling either. It annoyed Li.    
“Oh~! Li~!” 

“Shut up.” 

“You like him, don’t you~?!” 

“Shut  _ up _ .” 

“It’s so cute, oh my God… Finally, my lil’ gaybie’s found a baby~!” 

“Fuck off, Sakura…” Li warned, covering his face with his hands. 

“You’re blushing!”

“I’m not.”

“You are!”   
“ _ I’m  _ **_not_ ** .” 

“Oh~! I’m so happy! Do you know if he has any classes with you?”   
Li sighed. “I don’t know.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll find out for you. Ee~! This is so exciting! My baby’s in love!”

“I’m not your baby.”

“You’re practically my son.” 

“I’m  _ not!  _ Dammit, Sakura, I’m not in love…” His voice broke off. 

Sakura’s grin grew. She gripped Li’s arm tightly. “Liar. You are. You love him.” 

“How could I love him?” Li snapped, pulling his arm away. “I don’t even  _ know  _ him.” 

“Love at first sight~! Come on, you’ve never heard of that?”   
“You read too much manga.” 

“May _ be _ … But I know what this is. You’re going to talk to him, right?”

“...”

“Li?”   
“Yeah, sure, whatever. If I see him, then yeah, sure.” 

“You promise?” 

Li’s scowl deepened. “What?”

Suddenly, Sakura stopped. She held Li’s hands tightly, shaking them reassuringly before pulling one hand away and lifting her pinky. “Promise you’ll do it.” 

Li stared into her eyes for a moment, attempting to find out if she was serious or not. Once he did, he let out an exasperated sigh and hooked his pinky around her’s. “I promise…” He rolled his eyes. “God, you’re so childish.” 

Sakura simply replied with a smug smirk. Maybe it was childish-- but if it finally found a boyfriend for Li, it was completely worth it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm, wait a moment. Where did that knife go?


	6. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur dreams about his old life.  
> Alfred plans for the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so, before I begin, for returning readers, the reason I changed the rating, added some tags and archive warnings is because I am preparing for future chapters. There is going to be some back story that involves some things that took place when the characters were underage, and there will be some mentions of rape and abuse, and much later on, a lot of gore and character deaths. So, if this stuff doesn't float your boat, I suggest you stop reading, because it will only get worse from here (also, I'm sorry if the sex scenes suck, I've never really written any before, and this is kind of my first fanfiction. ((I started this before Cooperation. Cooperation was a request from my friend.)) Also, please don't hate! I'm new to this kind of thing lol... Anyways, you can stop reading the notes now. The chapter begins now~

_ I couldn’t see the stars. I’ve never been happier not seeing the stars. The sheets against my back were soft-- silk, probably. I wasn’t really fond of silk, but it just felt natural that night. I gripped them tightly into my fist, clenching my jaw and nearly biting my tongue in an attempt to stifle a moan. My other hand sit buried in his hair. I let out a breathy moan. _

_ “A-Alfred…” He clenched my thigh acknowledgingly. “I-I can-n’t-- Nng…” And suddenly, I felt my insides explode with pleasure. Warmth, ecstasy and intense… Oh, I couldn’t describe it. It flooded my body, making me feel a thousand feelings and emotions at once-- mixing in my stomach-- exercising every muscle, yet somehow making me feel weak all at the same time.  _

_ I wanted to close my eyes so much, and yet, I couldn’t. Instead, I looked down my chest to see Alfred sitting cross-legged in front of my fully erect cock. He smiled sweetly.  _

_ “Was that okay?” Alfred mused.  _

_ I nodded, breathless. “Y-Yeah.” He grinned again and sat up on his knees.  _

_ “Good.” He placed his arms next to my sides, and began crawling over me. “Then I’ll make you feel even better.”  _

_ I watched his face get closer to mine, confused until I felt his skin press against mine. Suddenly, everything was touching-- our chests, hips and our… I shuddered. His lips brushed up my neck lightly, placing small kisses until they were next to my ear.   _

_ “That thing you just felt? I promise you, Arthur,” He licked the lobe of my ear. “You’ll feel much more than that tonight…”  _

_ I didn’t reply. I didn’t really have the chance to. Suddenly, his lips crashed into mine, his tongue entering without searching for permission. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he spread my legs open. My lungs were screaming, but I couldn’t pull away. He had to fulfill his promise, but suddenly, my world went white-- and he never got the chance. _

Arthur woke up with a gasp. His eyes searched the general vicinity of his room, and he felt at a loss. His dream felt so real… The  _ feeling  _ felt so real. He was about to prop himself up on his elbows, when he felt the wet against his thighs.  _ Dammit.  _

He let out an annoyed sigh when he noticed a folded paper sitting atop his bedside table. On the top flap he spotted his name written in ornate cursive. Arthur fought to hold back a groan. “Bloody hell, Francis…” 

He pulled open said flap carefully, and read the writing inside. It was in French,  _ of course _ , but luckily, he understood every word. 

_ Dear Arthur, my love, _

_ I have gone to study group. As you probably know, we have a test tomorrow. You didn’t wake up at your normal time, so I put your breakfast in the fridge. If, for some reason, you didn’t wake up until lunch time, I also have left some money on the counter. And, yes I know you have your own money, but I am quite the perfect man, so I left some for you anyway.  _

_ ;) See you later, love~ _

_ Yours Forever,  _

_ Francis Bonnefoy _

_ What an idiot… _ Arthur glanced at the clock beside his door. 12.00.  _ Bullocks.  _

 

“Arthur!” Said student looked up from the conveyor belt to see Kiku, his young Japanese friend, running towards him with an unnecessary amount of books in his arms. Arthur eyed the titles.  _ In Search of Lost Time _ , Physics V8, a Greek Mythology textbook, a manga called  _ Junjou Romantica _ , and…  _ The Bible,  _ for some reason. Kiku smiled at him upon stopping. 

“Hello, Kiku.” The brunet bowed slightly. 

“Konnichiwa, Arthur-san. I haven’t seen you all day, I was worried…” Kiku chuckled lightly. “I suppose that was silly, now that I think about it.”   
Arthur shrugged, picking up his tray. “No, it’s alright. How have you been, Kiku?” 

“I’ve been okay…” Kiku glanced over at an empty table. “Would you like to eat with me?” 

“Sure, where would you like to sit?” Kiku blushed. 

“Anywhere you want, it doesn’t matter to me.” 

“Okay,” Arthur glanced around the room before finding a single empty table. “How about here?” He asked, pointing at the bar. 

Kiku nodded. “H-Hai… Yes, that would be okay.” 

 

_ Tap tap tap…  _ Alfred watched the two speak, irritated. Arthur sat in front of the Japanese student, looking proud, as always-- probably speaking about his cooking or eros. Whatever the topic may have been, it didn’t matter-- because what truly mattered was the look in Kiku’s eyes. How he kept staring even after Arthur wasn’t looking-- how he held on to every word that came out of his mouth.

Sometimes Arthur would ask if Kiku had anything to, to which that bastard always replied with “no, carry on.” What a fucking case. There was something wrong with that Kiku. Alfred remembered the time when he first noticed him. He was so furious that he immediately decided that something had to be done about his presence. 

He had been following Kiku, waiting for the right time to strike, when he fished his knife out of his left pocket, and drove it towards the piece of shit’s head. It would have broke past his skull; past the bone, brain and everything. It would have killed him instantly, but Kiku somehow had heard him, and dodged it.

Kiku had grabbed Alfred arm, pulled him close, and used his foot to kick his popliteals, knocking him to his knees. He grabbed a handful of Alfred’s blond hair, and said, putting his lips to Alfred’s ear, “ _ Don’t you ever try that again. And if you ever come near Arthur… It’ll be my blade going into  _ your  **head** . _ ”  _

And with that, he simply took Alfred’s knife and left. It was really strange, honestly. Alfred didn’t really understand Kiku’s motives  _ at the time,  _ but now he knew. Kiku was in love with Arthur, and unfortunately, it seemed like he had the means to protect him as well. Maybe Alfred  _ had  _ stayed away, but that didn’t mean he didn’t plan to rescue his little  _ princess.  _ Someday he would. Maybe when he was tired of Ivan, he didn’t know. That Russian had been becoming bothersome anyway, and he knew that, eventually, he would want Arthur so badly that it would become unbearable. He was simply waiting for that time to come, but he knew that, when it did, he would definitely take care of, not only Kiku, but Emil, Gilbert, Natalya-- everyone. Everyone that was a problem, everyone that caused him trouble. 

The day  _ would  _ come someday, he knew that. He just had to wait. 

Just as that thought crossed his mind, Arthur turned towards him. He tried his best to look unfazed, but that fear still lingered in his eyes. Alfred suppressed a smirk. 

_ Soon, princess. Soon. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why do I always make Alfred so dark? Haha, I guess that's just a flaw of mine. I hope you liked this chapter~! (now to turn the rating to explicit...)


	7. The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natalya wakes up in an unfamiliar place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised myself I would post a new chapter 6/7 days a week, but just count this one as yesterday's posting lol. Yay, another one! I hope you enjoy, and I hope this at least gives a bit of background of Alfred and Arthur's past love life.

_ Hm… Hmm? The ground… Er, wha? Wait… Where am--  _

Natalya opened her eyes. The ground beneath her felt soft, yet rutted and uneven. Her back felt irritated; itchy, too. She stared up into the sky, watching the bent crowns slide south, as if she were… Her eyes went wide. 

“What the…” She tossed to the side, attempting to push herself from the ground, but something tight was wrapped around her ankles, restraining her legs completely. Her arms, too, were restrained behind her back. Natalya suddenly became aware of the pain-- the pain the ropes tying her limbs together… The scraping of the hard ground gradually tearing at her skin. And her pounding headache-- that was probably the worst of it all. “What the fuck??!!” She cursed suddenly. Her body stopped for a moment, a startled moment, then regained the former, steady pace. 

“Oh,” A male voice laughed; a breathy sort of laugh, clearly indicating that Natalya’s outburst had frightened him a little. “You scared me,” He admitted. “You must be really stubborn. That blow I gave you should’ve kept you out for an hour, at least.” 

Natalya thought back to her most recent memory. She was walking down the girl’s hall, in a tired stupor. She had left the room… For,  _ uhm _ , water, or something. Ice? Whatever, that wasn’t important. 

She had gotten to about the end of the hall when a sudden force struck her head, and then black cloaked her consciousness. The feeling didn’t hurt at the time, but now, being dragged through the woods by… Her train of thought stopped. 

It wasn’t by legs, she could see quite clearly that she was being pulled in a direction she couldn’t see. She assumed that was intended, but she didn’t really know for sure. Her arms were strung behind her back, so it wasn’t by that, and she was sure that she would’ve noticed if she was being dragged by her hair. Then what… Her heart stopped.  _ No no no no no no no!!!  _

Just then, she noticed the throbbing pain around her neck, her shortness of breath--  _ my God--  _ why didn’t she notice before. 

She tugged at the ropes bonding her hands together, itching to rip the rope from her neck. “Let me go!” She shouted, kicking her legs the hardest she could. 

“Ah, should’ve known you’ve been a fighter,” The man chuckled. Suddenly, he pulled at the rope strung around Natalya’s neck, earning a yelp from deep in her throat. “Please don’t do that, we’re close.” 

_ C-Close?  _ Natalya didn’t want to know, but he told her anyway.

“We’re going to a special place! Believe it or not, I came there with someone  _ very  _ dear to me.” He went silent for a moment, smiling fondly, unbeknownst to Natalya. But then, the smile faded, and his expression went dark. “We’re not so close anymore.” 

Natalya hadn’t stopped fighting during this speech, but eventually paused when she heard the sound of…  _ What are they called? Ah--  _ Cicadas. She let out a shaky breath after the smell of murky freshwater filled her nostrils.  _ A lake.  _ Briar’s Lake, to be exact.

Briar’s Lake was founded by, surprise, a guy name Briar in the 1730s. Apparently, it used to be a city park before Caroline was built. After it was, however, the headmaster stumbled upon the forgotten of the now-lagoon and deemed it, along with the entire park, land belonging to Caroline Academy. 

It was said to be a pretty pond when first discovered, but time and environmental damage took it’s toll as the years passed, and it eventually became something ugly.

A dark, eerie murk with water so dark and deep and cold people not only refused to swim in it, but something that people refused to go near altogether. 

Natalya had been there only once, but it was because Ivan asked her to. Katyusha was sick from the flu, and Natalya, being strangely prone to disease, wanted to escape campus. Katyusha had been fine with it, so Ivan took her on a walk. They were in the former park when they stumbled across the swamp. 

Natalya hated it so much she wanted to leave. Ivan wanted to stay and watch the sight longer. He said it was dark, and mysterious, and that he found that beautiful. That was before he had met Alfred.

_ Alfred…  _

The man who was taking her was strong-- abnormally so-- but by his voice, it was clear that he was young-- young enough to be in Caroline. She suddenly had the idea to speak again, only to hear the man’s voice again, and maybe study it to see if she could match it to anyone she knew. 

“W-What happened?” She asked, voice choppy from the,  _ hm, let’s see--  _ the rope around her neck. 

The man sighed. “A misunderstanding, of sorts. But I cannot…” He paused for a moment. “Huh. Well, I guess I can. ‘S not like you can tell anyone, hahaha.” 

The voice did sound familiar-- it was bright, confident, with a twinge of childish charisma. She had heard it before, but where… Who did she talk to that were male? No one, she was sure. No one except her brother, a trio of Eastern European boys and… She thought for a moment, then realization struck her. 

The man continued. “I guess I made him uncomfortable, or something. I don’t really know what it was… But we had been together for  _ so long.  _ I had even brought him to my vacation penthouse in New York. It belonged to my step parents-- they were pretty rich. They even had a cabin out in Sweden,  _ haha _ !”

_ It couldn’t be… He’s just a pompous asshole-- he’s not a… Ivan… Did he do something to you? Is that why Gilbert…  _ She inwardly shook her head, unwilling to believe it. 

“Anyways, I brought him out there when we were about, erm, sixteen, I believe. I brought him to the bedroom and he had said- ha!- he had said that he had never done…  _ It  _ before.” He lowered his voice at “it,” as if he were still a child in elementary school. “So I showed him. It really wasn’t anything special, at least not in my opinion. You know how long I’ve been having that? Eleven years, and counting! I’m eighteen now, by the way, to put things in perspective.” 

_ No question now… That’s his voice, and the history and age just proves it even further.  _

“I gave him everything,” The man frowned, his tone suddenly shifted from slightly obnoxious to dark and somber. “And he just… Left me.” He was quiet for a long while, and didn’t make a sound until a few moments after dropping Natalya’s body and stopping. He used the break stretch. Oh, how Natalya longed for that.

Just after finishing, he let out a sigh, a happy sort of sigh, signalling that he was ‘all better’ and that the break in his voice just a short time earlier was no longer a cause for concern anymore. 

“Ah, well, we’re here.” He looked back at Natalya, finally showing his face for the first time. Her eyes widened, and her face went white. 

_ Alfred.  _

The blond American smiled broadly. “You ready?” 

Natalya stared at him, confused. “R-Ready?” She questioned, voice broken. His grin widened. 

“Mmhm! Yup, it’s time, finally!” He grabbed the tail of her noose. “Sorry,” Alfred started, voice hushed, as an apologetic look set onto his features. “This might hurt just a  _ tiny  _ bit.” 

Natalya frowned, bewildered for some time before setting her eyes on the dock just adjacent to her. She turned back to Alfred, who was grinning again, and shook her head wildly. “N-No. No, no, no!” 

He laughed excitedly, and madly, then turned towards the docks and began sprinting. His hysterical laugh filled the air surrounding the lake, echoing off trees and traveling up the sky so high that the stars could’ve hear it. 

As he ran, Natalya’s body jumped on the dock behind him. She grunted and yelped, internally begging for Alfred to stop and say it was a joke, a sick joke, and that he wasn’t planning anything-- nothing to truly cause her pain or nothing to even kill her. She felt slivers of the wood drive into her arms, back and legs, somehow burying deep into her muscles. One large chunk of wood even broke off when her leg hit the berth and pierced her calve, carving a crescent moon shape deep in her tissue. She let out a cry of pain with this happened, to which Alfred responded to only by laughing louder. He pulled her along like a child with their kite, playing joyously with their strung toy. 

The pounding and pain didn’t stop until they reached the end of the dock. By then, Natalya couldn’t move; couldn’t fight Alfred-- she couldn’t fight him anymore. He climbed on top of her. Natalya had no choice but to meet his eyes. 

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” He stared at her for a moment, studying her facial expressions as they changed from exhausted to fiercely stubborn. He smile cracked with a lapse of insanity. 

Alfred tilted her chin up. “Oh… You looking at me like that… You’re gonna get me hard…” He leaned down then, bending down so far that his breathing could be felt on her cheek. “Whores like you are the reason why I despise women so much.” He gazed down at her with a cruel smile. Suddenly, she was aware of his hand sliding down her side. She watched it reach toward his pocket, and fish out a knife. A switchblade.

Alfred pulled it open swiftly and proceeded to rub the blade against Natalya-- starting at her forehead and down to the nape of her neck. “We’re gonna play now, yeah?” He straightened his back and crawled back to her feet. “It’ll be fun! Just like old times.” 

He cut off the rope binding her feet, then moved to her hands. He slipped the noose off her head and helped her up. He slung her arm around his shoulders and began walking towards the end of the pier. 

“It’s that one game, remember? Same game, I just changed it up a lil’ bit!” Natalya opened her eyes, slowly coming to see the black water in front of her. “It’s just like it! ‘Cept this time, instead of  _ you  _ throwing  _ me  _ into the lake…” He adjusted his hold around her waist. “It’ll be  _ me  _ throwing  _ you!”  _

He adjusted his hold once more before pressing his lips against her ears, and whispering a soft, yet twisted, “It’s your turn now, Danny.”   
Suddenly, Alfred lifted Natalya up, almost effortlessly, and threw her far into the air. She felt as if she was gliding through the mist-- like she had finally escaped from something terrible and she was free. Like she was an angel; flying. Until, she felt gravity latch onto her foot and pull her down into the cold, wet dark. 

She plunged into the drink with a splash. She was numb for the first few moments, immune to the cold and augue of the clouded deep, but then it came and pushed past her skin and into her bones, and she woke up, and she began to struggle. 

She kicked furiously, trying her hardest to escape. She broke past the surface and swam towards the dock, where Alfred waited patiently, sitting on the end in a cross-legged position while smiling warmly. She reached towards the dock, but just as her hand landed on the platform, Alfred snorted a short, “Nope,” before dropping his enclosed fist on her fingers. She yelped again, pulling her hand away before slapping her other hand in place of the previous. He giggled. 

“Danny, are you dense? You’re being really stupid, don’t you know the rules?” Natalya stared at Alfred helplessly. He pointed his finger behind her, and turning her head, she saw a mass of land on the other end of the water. “The rules are, you can’t swim back to the dock. You gotta swim over there-- then you’ll get to run home.” 

_ Home.  _ The word felt so foreign to Natalya-- so impossible to have. Yet she wanted and missed it  _ so  _ badly. “Go on, lil piggy. Your break is over.” And he used his foot to kick her back down.

She turned around and began to swim back towards the shoreline. Her fingers combed through the moss and drink as her feet kicked behind her. She tried her best to ignore the aching in her limbs, but no matter how hard she tried, her exhaustion and pain relentlessly held her back. Her sheer determination and will, however, seemed to overpower these things, and before she knew it, she was only feet away from Home, but just as it became within arms reach… Something stop her. Something had taken a hold of her ankle, and was keeping her from the shoreline. 

She panicked, and began kicking furiously, desperate to break whatever had tethered itself onto her limb. She gasped, nearly dipping beneath the surface, while many meters away, Alfred sits atop the dock, fondly watching the girl’s efforts. 

“Kicking won't make it go away, dear.”

Suddenly, Natalya stopped. She took a moment to think about his words before taking a deep breath and diving underwater. She kept her eyes open in hopes of seeing the culprit, but to no avail. She did find it, however, and quickly pulled it off, much to her immense relief. And then, only seconds later she reached the shore. 

Natalya climbed onto the shore and laid down on the rocks, breathing heavily. She laughed excitably.  _ I made it,  _ she thought happily.  _ I made it!  _

She pushed herself off the ground with a spirited smile of her face.  _ Finally, I get to go home-- _

Just then, her thoughts were cut short by a bullet cutting through the air and hitting her square in the head. Her movements stopped and she paused for a moment, her body frozen. And after a few seconds, she collapsed, dead, on the stone shoreline. 

Alfred stands on the pier from the point where the bullet began, his gun drawn and pointed where Natalya formerly stood. He dropped his arm with a short sigh before turning around and skipping back into the woods. 

_ (+1) Natalya Braginsky  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my. What have I done? Lolol Alfred's plan is coming to fruition haha.. more deaths coming ;) stay tuned for angst and gore~


	8. Mixed Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivan has a suspect in mind for the disappearance of his sister.  
> Sakura and Li come to a shocking conclusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop~ Whoop~ Two chapts in a day~! Yay~  
> Okay okay so here ya go, and (sorry, kind of a spoiler) in the chapter that will come up tomorrow, I'm going to make sure Emil meets Lukas. FINALLY. My God, geez, why do I forget things. Anyways, here, here. Read on my friends~

_ Gone…? Is she really… No, she couldn’t be-- Natalya’s too…  _ Ivan shook his head. He was at a loss for words. It was supposed to be a normal day. It certainly started off normal-- more normal than so, he hadn’t seen Alfred all morning. But, there a police officer was, standing at his door, telling him that his younger sister had supposedly gone missing over the night. He shook his head again. He wouldn’t believe it. 

“Natalya couldn’t of gone missing! She’s too strong to be taken-- I would know, I’m her brother! She isn’t… She isn’t…” He stumbled backwards, unaware that he was just spoken in his native language. The officer glanced over at Emil, who just sat on the edge of his mattress awkwardly. 

“I’m sorry, sir…” The officer apologized. “But, she is gone. We’ll search for her anyplace we can, but it would be wise if you got her affairs in order.” Ivan went pale. Did he mean… 

“I think it would be best if you just left,” Ivan mumbled, averting his eyes from the cop’s. The man nodded. 

“Of course, have a good day, sir.” Ivan shut the door after watching the officer exited his line of vision. He turned around and faced Emil. 

The two stared at each other for a couple of moments; silent until Emil quietly muttered, “I’m sorry about your sister.” 

Ivan shrugged, turning away. “She’s fine.”

“You’re sure?” Emil asked cautiously. Ivan nodded. 

“She’s strong. I’m sure she’s on her way here now.” Ivan slid his coat and shoes on with a sigh. “I’m going out.” 

“See you later,” Emil replied. Ivan faced him briefly after opening the door. 

“See you.” 

 

On the other side of the school, in the girl’s hall, Sakura Honda sits on her bed next to Li Xiao Chun. It was the weekend, the only time girls were allowed to spend time with boys outside of their classes. They were speaking of current events; the coming spring break, some politics and book-speak, but they also spoke of the latest mystery facing Caroline; Ivan’s sister, Natalya, going missing. 

People disappearing from Caroline was no new event. In fact, Li even said that he “wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what the school was known for.” Caroline Academy had no sports team-- just a mathletes team and chess club. They didn’t even have a drama club, and the only class related to the arts that they had was Arts Foundation, and even that wasn’t fulfilling enough for students hoping to make it into the arts field. The school board, for some reason, refused to fund anything that wasn’t academical and related to numbers, but it did cause the school to lead in math scores, so it wasn’t too much of a bad thing to most people. To Li, however, he wished for nothing other than a good arts program. Sakura felt the same. 

She dreamed of becoming a manga artist, but saw no chance of it due to her lack of experience. She planned to leave as soon as she could once the final semester ended. 

“Who do you think did it?” Sakura suddenly asked as she read her manga. Li looked up from his own book. 

“That Natalya thing?” She nodded. 

“It’s weird, right? Who would wanna kill her? I mean, she mean sometimes, but she’s never really done anything to earn a place on someone’s hit list.” 

Li shrugged. “Why not? If you had to choose someone to kill, wouldn’t you choose someone mean?” Natalyå went silent, thinking about it for a moment. 

She let out a short sigh. “I suppose so,” She admitted. “But you didn’t answer my question.” 

“Who do I think did it?” She nodded again. “That’s easy.” 

Sakura gazed at him questioningly. Li glanced up from his book again, meeting her confused eyes. He sighed, shutting his book. 

“Think about it. Who has she wronged, or at least, bothered?” 

Sakura was clueless. “Um… Everyone?”

“I mean personally. Who has she affected personally?” 

“Well, Ivan, but I doubt he’d--” Sakura froze. “Wait. You don’t mean…”   
“Alfred.” 

“He wouldn’t.” She paused for a moment. “...Would he?” Li shrugged. 

“I dunno. He doesn’t like her, that’s for sure.” 

“Could he have left last night without anyone noticing?” 

“He doesn’t have a roommate,” Li added. “That guy went missing forever ago--” His eyes, along with Sakura’s, widened. 

“No way,” She breathed. “Do you think all of them… Was because of Alfred…?” 

The two were silent, taking the time to gather all the facts and memories of every missing person. It added up. Alfred had a place in each of their stories. The reasons? Well, they hadn’t found that out yet. But they thought that Natalya’s wrongdoing was interfering in he and Ivan’s relationship. They could only assume it was the same for everyone else. 

Whatever was going on between Ivan and Alfred, it wasn’t good, and it certainly wasn’t healthy. But the most alarming thing about the entire situation was… Alfred had never hurt anyone close to Ivan. Something was coming, and it wasn’t good at all. 

Sakura and Li thought about who the next targets would be next. Gilbert, definitely, was one of them. Kiku, maybe. Alfred didn’t seem to like him at all, for whatever reason. Maybe Arthur. They used to be close, and Alfred still seemed to be interested in him, so if that were true, Francis was probably another target, and Kiku definitely was. Kiku had been in love with Arthur for forever, everyone knew that. 

All of these names were alarming, but the  _ most _ alarming name they came up with was Emil’s. Emil was Ivan’s roommate, and if Alfred was truly as psychotic as they thought him up to be, he would be paranoid of the general closeness of Emil to Ivan, and would therefore see him as a likely target to have. 

If all of these things were true, they had to warn Emil before it was too late. 

 

==

 

Ivan knocked on Alfred’s door with a heavy sigh. He clenched his fists to calm himself down, but it didn’t seem to be working. For some reason unknown to Ivan, he was mad at Alfred. Maybe even furious. He found himself thinking that, deep down, Alfred was a monster, and the monster had taken Natalya. It sounded ridiculous that he had even thought that, but he couldn’t help it. What was he if not paranoid?   
Alfred opened the door a moments after he knocked a second time. He immediately smiled upon seeing Ivan’s face. 

“Yo, Ivan! I didn’t know I’d be expecting you today~!” He sang, almost seductively. And suddenly, Ivan couldn’t hold it in anymore. He allowed his features to darken, and his voice to drop down to a serious baritone. He glared at Alfred, and he could see in Alfred’s face that he was frightened. 

“What did you do?” Ivan asked through his teeth. Alfred swallowed a mass of air.

“I don’t… Know what you mean,” He replied slowly. His hand gripped his door tightly, as if he were preparing to slam it shut if Ivan tried anything. 

“Natalya,” Ivan spat. “My sister. What did you do to her?” He repeated. Alfred frowned up at him, painting his face with fake concern and cautiousness.

“Ivan,” He began, slowly, and carefully. “I didn’t do anything to Natalya.” 

“You hate her. You’ve always hated her.  _ You’re _ the only person with reason.” 

“Ivan, you’re wrong. It wasn’t me.” 

“I know you did it.” 

“I didn’t.” 

“You did!” Just then Ivan lunged towards Alfred, gripping him by the neck with his hands and knocking him to the ground. He bared his teeth like an animal, fiercely, and with eyes full of hate. “Liar! You liar! You’re lying! You did it! I know you did!” 

Alfred watched him with wide eyes, but somehow, Ivan could see the excitement laced deep in his subconscious. He suddenly took the opportunity, while Ivan got lost into Alfred’s eyes, to grab Ivan’s collar and pull him into a deep kiss. 

Ivan was still for a few moments, but eventually melted into it. He used his foot to kick the open door shut behind him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn.  
> It appears that Sakura is no longer a side character. She is now important. Oops.


	9. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emil receives a present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before we start this, don't get mad at me. I couldn't just... Okay, I can't say anything else. Anyways, I'm honoring my promise from last chapter. Emil meets Lukas, but that's all I'm saying. I also had to speed some things along too. Anyways, with this vague warning, I begin this chapter. I hope you enjoy~~ heheh

Emil Steilsson had never visited a nurse, at his old school, or otherwise. There really wasn’t much of a reason, he just disliked them. Immensely. 

Nurses, to him, were evil, succubus creatures that were only interested in their own paycheck. They cared about money more than the children they were treating, at least that’s what Emil believed. Because of these beliefs he tended to steer clear of the creatures, but one day in March, he really couldn’t just ‘walk off’ his pain. He had been watching Li, again, and thanks to Li finding him just a few days before, it had become harder and harder to avoid his gaze. So, he climbed a tree. Sure, it was crazy, but it was the only thing he could think of at the time. 

He climbed the tree, and of course, due to having to prior knowledge or experience with trees, he fell, and landed on his arm. And if that weren’t bad enough, it was in front of every student attending the second lunch hour. No one really laughed-- he was mostly just ogled at. He thanked his lucky stars that Li had left early for an art lesson. 

As Emil sped-walked down the faculty corridor, eager to escape from his embarrassment, he noticed the alarming amount of pain his left arm was in. He ignored it at first, of course, just as he always did, but it eventually became too much to bear, and he had no choice but to visit the nurse. 

He stood hesitantly a few feet away from the door for a moment, and eventually gaining courage, he stepped closer. However, before entering, a young woman, no older than twenty-two, with an angry expression on her face huffed and stormed out, paying no mind to the injured student. 

Emil stuck his head through the door to see the back of a badly cut and bruised boy sitting on one of the cots and slipping his shirt on slowly. He had apparently heard Emil enter, because he turned around just as Emil caught sight of him. Both of their eyes widened. 

_ The murderer boy…  _ Emil thought, at a lost.

_ Emil…  _ Said boy thought at the same time. 

“Hello,” Emil sputtered, just as awkward as the last, and first, time they crossed paths.

“Hi,” The boy replied, just the same. “What are… You doing here?” 

“I hurt my arm…” Emil averted his eyes for a moment, focusing on the boy’s back. “What about you?”

“Heart palpitations, at first.” His gaze faltered. “But then she did a body inspection..”

Emil was quiet for a moment. “Abuse?” The boy shook his head. “Self-harm?” He shook it again. Suddenly, his face was crimson with blush. 

“It’s nothing. Stupid things, the woman wouldn’t understand.” Emil immediately understood.

“Ah,” Emil breathed. “I see.” 

It was silent again for moments after that; silent until the boy finished buttoning up his white shirt and fixing his tie, and until he slipped his coat on. Then, he pushed himself off the bed, grabbed a plastic cup full of pills, downed it, then approached Emil with his arm outstretched. 

“Lukas Bondevik,” He said suddenly. Emil stared at his hand, hesitant at first, but eventually grabbing it and shaking it anyway. His eyes met Lukas’s. 

“Emil Steilsson.” The boy suddenly smirked.

“I know.” 

“Huh?” Lukas pulled his hand away. Emil bit his bottom lip, suddenly anxious. “What do you mean?” 

Lukas stared at him for a moment, a long moment, before finally smiling and saying, “Come with me?” 

“Come with you?” Emil echoed.

“Yes. There’s a reason why I know your name, don’t you want to know?” 

_ Well…  _ Emil thought about the situations he could find himself in if he listened. Bullying, harassing, kidnapping, and another, which was also quite possible: murder. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Where’re we going?” 

“I have a place off-campus,” He answered casually. “It’s in a safe neighborhood where nothing ever happens, but it’s rather desolate. I’m not going to do anything to you, I just have a gift I wanted to give you. You know, for keeping my secret.” 

_ The boy,  _ Emil remembered.  _ That could be you. You can’t go.  _ But then again, he considered, saying ‘no’ to a likely serial killer wasn’t a good idea. Suddenly, he found himself linking all the missing persons cases to Lukas.  _ Be careful.  _ He had no choice. 

“Sure,” Emil replied, trying to look as stoic as possible. The boy-- Lukas-- smiled. Could that have been a sinister glint in his eyes?

“Okay. Follow me.” 

Lukas took a moment to fix up his hair in a car window outside, before it suddenly shattered. A rock now sat on the passenger’s seat. Emil gasped, looking over his shoulder to see a tall blond man with wild hair waving his hand excitedly, and bearing his teeth in an attempt of a grin. 

Lukas looked over at him and smiled. “Mathias!” He called. “You nearly hit me that time!” 

‘Mathias’ shrugged. “But you still dodged it. I gotta keep trying, haha!” He skipped across the grass and leapt over a bumper, landing just in front of Lukas and Emil. Lukas smiled seductively at Mathias as he took him in his arms. “Hello, dear,” Mathias breathed. He gave Emil a brief glance. “Who’s the stud?”

Lukas looked over at mentioned student. “That’s just Emil,” He replied. “You know the one I told you about. They were both staring at Emil now, causing Emil to grip his sore arm nervously and shift uncomfortably. 

“Oh,” Mathias looked away, locking his eyes with Lukas again, the heat, returning. “I guess it’s time for you to unveil your little gift now, isn’t it? I can’t wait to see it, I’m sure it was very thoughtful.” 

The smile formed on Lukas’s lips again. “It was.” 

Emil was sure the two had forgotten about him then, and were about to do something that definitely shouldn’t be done in public, but luckily, a van suddenly braked in the middle of road, breaking the moment. The passenger’s window rolled down, revealing another blond with glasses sitting in the passenger’s seat, and another blond, this one much smaller than the one sitting on his side, in the driver’s side. 

“You’re late,” The driver growled. 

Mathias smiled, not even sparing the van a glance. “Tino!” He shouted. Then he turned his head. “Great to see you, friend! I see you brought the trash can!” 

“Do not call my van a trash can,” The passenger warned with a frown. Lukas chuckled silently. 

“Who’s that?” The driver asked, gesturing towards Emil. Lukas had escaped from Mathias’s grasp, and was now standing beside Emil. 

“Just someone.” 

Mathias slung his arm around Emil. “Just my buddy, Emil~ He’s the one getting the present~.” 

The driver’s, or ‘Tino,’ called by Mathias, eyes widened in recognition. 

“Ah,” He mumbled. “I see. He can come, then.” 

Just then, a loud car alarm erupted from the previously violated car, the sound echoing about the street and filling the air inside the nearby academy. Tino’s face contorted in annoyance and anger.

“You idiots! Get in!” 

“A late reaction, it seems,” Mathias said, voice hidden by the blaring horn. They jogged over to the van as quickly as they could as Mathias pushed Emil along as well. Emil was forced to sit in the center by Tino, who said that he could not see a single instance where they would act appropriately, to which Mathias simply laughed at. Lukas said that a person between them wouldn’t matter, as they would do whatever they wanted whenever they wanted to. He didn’t lie.

Throughout the entire car ride, Emil sat in between a passionate staring contest-- a staring contest with additional suggestive looks, gestures, and occasionally, perverse lines tailed with a half-lidded expression and crimson cheeks. Emil had only known the two for little under ten minutes and he already knew that the two were inseparable. 

“In case you didn’t know, I’m Tino,” The driver uttered about twelve minutes in. “You’re Emil, right?” He asked, glancing at the teen in his rear window. Emil nodded.

“Emil Steilsson.” 

“You’re from Caroline?” 

He nodded again. 

“I see. Then I guess I’ll see you around.” He pushed down turn signal indicator and made a right turn into the “dangerous part of the city,” or, “the hood.” 

“Sorry I lied,” Lukas suddenly said, focus clearly not on Emil or the world around them. Emil just shifted uncomfortably. 

“I assume you already know their names. The Dane’s Mathias, and the small one’s Lukas. This is Berwald, over here beside me.” Said passenger simply locked eyes with Emil for a moment through the mirror, and gazed over at Tino.

“That’s m’wife,” He said in an accented voice. He sounded Swedish, Emil noted. 

Suddenly, Tino laughed awkwardly, his expression completely different than it was moments before. “I’m not actually his wife, but he likes to call me that a lot. Don’t feel weirded out.” For a moment, Tino seemed kind, and a bit shy, but it wasn’t long before his expression switched back to one of anger. 

He gripped Berwald’s lovingly, and reverted. He frowned at Emil through the mirror. It was clear he didn’t trust him. 

A few more minutes passed, and they arrived at their intended destination. It was a house-- one of those small ones you see in the suburb part of Chicago; small, shabby, and clearly that of little money. It looked abandoned, and Emil could only assume it was. The five stepped out of the van, suddenly forced to embrace the late-winter wind and chill. Emil felt freezing, but the others didn’t seem too affected. 

Emil came to realize, eventually, that each and every one of them were from a different Nordic country. Tino mentioned something about Mathias being a Dane, and he himself sounded Finnish, or at the very least, Estonian or something Slavic. Berwald was clearly,  _ painfully,  _ Swedish, and Lukas was a Norwegian name, so Emil could only assume he was just that. And Emil was Icelandic. Was it fate?

Lukas hooked his arm around Mathias as he did the same, and Berwald and Tino approached the house holding hands. Emil could also only assume that they were both each a couple. 

Mathias opened the front door dramatically. “Ladies first,” He sang. It took Emil a moment before realizing he was talking about him instead of Lukas. 

Emil walked in cautiously, followed by Tino and Berwald, and then Lukas, and at last, Mathias. The Dane locked the door behind him. 

The inside looked as if it were newly renovated, likely fixed up from the no-doubt pile of debris it formally took form as. Tino let out a sigh. 

“I’m going to make dinner.” He turned to Berwald with a protective glint in his eyes. “Watch him.”

Mathias sighed happily. 

“Lukas, is it time now?” Said Norwegian nodded.

“Yes. Emil?” The student looked over at him. “Follow me.” 

Emil followed Lukas down a short hallway, closely followed by a childishly cheerful Mathias and a stone-faced Berwald. They walked until they came to a door unlike the rest. Lukas stuck a key in the keyhole and twisted, and when he opened, he revealed a cascade of stairs leading toward the darkness. Lukas pulled a torch out of seemingly nowhere and handed it to Emil. Emil hesitantly took it. 

“What’s this for?” Emil asked nervously. Mathias just grinned. Berwald’s face relaxed. 

“Go down,” Lukas said with a sneer. “And don’t turn the flashlight on until you walk ten steps from the stairs.” And so he listened. He didn’t know why, but he listened.

He began to walk down the stairs, and eventually reached the floor. Once he did, he looked back towards the door to find it shut. His eyes bulged.  _ No way.  _

He should’ve knocked down the door just then-- it wasn’t very strong, so he certainly had the chance-- but instead he turned back around, took a deep breath, and began taking the steps. 

One,

two,

three,

four, 

He stopped.  _ Keep going,  _ a voice inside his head beckoned.  _ Keep walking.  _

five,

six, 

He suddenly heard a rattling.

seven, 

Some clangs.

eight, 

Like chains brushing up against each other. 

nine,

Something suddenly blocked the airflow in front of him, and creaking seemed to sound from right above him.  _ What the… _

ten.

Suddenly, he ran into something-- or some _ things--  _ he couldn’t tell what, but there were two of them. They hit his face, and he jumped back, swatting at something that no longer was present. 

The swinging and creaking sounds resumed and the sound of breathing played along as well-- a breathing that was quicker and heavier than his own. He turned on the flashlight. 

The light was blinding at first, causing Emil to squeeze his eyes shut in recovery. When he opened his eyelids, and when they adjusted to the newly found light, he found himself staring at two hairless and bruised legs dangling in front of his face, and when his eyes traveled up, he saw the body of a small, naked woman with semi-tan skin and short chocolate hair hung from the ceiling by her wrists by a chain. Emil stared at her beaten face and pleading eyes for a moment, but he couldn’t stop his eyes from traveling back down to her chest. 

He suddenly gasped, clapping his hand over his mouth and falling down into something wet. God, he thought it wasn’t urine… Or blood… Just then, a hand suddenly cupped his shoulder, and a warm voice brushed against his ear. 

“Like it?” The voice asked. It was Lukas. “She wasn’t much of a fighter, but I thought you’d appreciate the bruises anyway.” Emil stared at her-- not particularly at her chest anymore, but at her entire body in general. He avoided her…  _ Nether regions _ , of course, for obvious reasons, but he couldn’t stop looking into her eyes. Her large, once innocent, brown eyes stared at him pleadingly as tears streamed down her cheeks. She didn’t say anything-- she couldn’t, thanks to the duct tape over her mouth. He couldn’t help but note how terribly she looked, and wonder how terribly Lukas must’ve treated her to wear her down that much. Then again, she  _ was  _ pretty innocent. It probably didn’t take much to break her, now that he thought about it. 

“How did you know?” Emil asked, gazing questioningly at Lukas. He smiled warmly.

“Easy. I saw how you looked at her when you thought you weren’t noticed. You hated her--  _ terribly.  _ I just wanted to help you out.” 

Emil stared at her for another moment, completely silent, before finally saying, “Thank you…” Lukas’s smile grew. 

“You’re welcome. You can do whatever you want with her-- there’s a ladder over by the left wall if you want to take her down. And there’s some tools in a chest somewhere around there. But keep it down, please. Tino gets pretty mad about things like that.” 

Emil simply watched him walk towards the door, at a loss for a words. “Come back up when you’re done,” He said warmly, standing up at the door. “Welcome to the family.” And with that, he shut the door. 

Emil turned back to Sakura, who now gazed at him with eyes full of fear instead of hope and yearning. He let out a long breath and began to push himself off the floor. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DON'T WORRY I'M POSTING THE NEXT CHAPTER TOMORROW ANDDDD IT'LL GET PRETTY GRAPHIC PROBABLY. IF YOU'RE NOT INTO TORTURE, GORE OR MAYBE EVEN... GURO?!??! IDK WISH ME LUCK WRITING THIS, AND I WISH YOU ALL LUCK READING IT LOL   
> PREPARE YOURSELVES.


	10. Resurfacing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What will Emil do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, it's hear and it probably sucks. Sorry lol, but this is the best I could do without assuring Emil would be screwed throughout this entire story... Anyways, enjoy, and I'm sorry if it doesn't meet your guys' expectations. (Not trying to be salty, I just feel like it's terrible lol)

Emil sat on the stairs, staring at his feet-- or rather, avoiding eye contact with the chained-up girl. However, he could hear the squeak from the chains as she swayed from side to side. He could imagine her eyes on him-- her eyes widening with fear, perhaps overflowing with tears as they did earlier for Lukas. He found himself wanting to generate that reaction from her, though he knew it wasn’t right. Sure, he hated her, but he was pretty sure he didn’t want her to go through something as agonizing and painful as the things he had in mind. 

So, instead of giving into this seemingly animalistic and primal urge, he sat on the unsanded stairs, tapping his foot impatiently and completely ignoring Sakura. 

He drummed his fingers on his left cheek, completely and utterly uncomfortable. He shifted his weight once or twice to get rid of this feeling, but it paid no yield. He tried to keep his brain away from the ideas and his twisted imagination-- Hell, he deserved a fucking medal for trying so hard, even though trying seemed to do nothing but keep his ass planted on the stairs-- the prickly stairs that drove splinters into his thighs every time he moved. Getting up wouldn’t hurt, would it? It was only for a moment-- only a moment. Nothing would happen.

So with this thought in his mind, he stood up and began to pace-- that is, until his eyes set on the box Lukas mentioned. It sat idly beside the wooden ladder he had also mentioned waiting-- just waiting to be opened and explored and emptied; the toys, tools, or whatever Lukas had called them, used to their fullest ability. Maybe even more. Just a taste couldn’t hurt, right? It was only a taste… He’d do one small thing, only one, then he’d simply leave. He wasn’t the one locked down in that basement, it was Sakura. 

It was a sound from deep in said girl’s throat that pulled him out of his trance and made him realize he had been standing in place for nearly eight minutes straight. She grunted and attempted to say something, but with the tape placed over her mouth, he couldn’t exactly… 

_ Oh,  _ he remembered.  _ Right.  _

He quickly walked over to Sakura and reached for the tape, accidently-- truly, it was-- brushing his elbow against the soft lumps on her chest. He could hardly keep himself from gasping then, but his will power was truly one for the books, so he was able to remove the tape without much of the problem. Sakura took a deep, drawn out breath when the obstacle was removed, relieved, in some way, that a fraction of her discomfort had been deduced. She met eyes with Emil as he backed away and took a step to begin pacing again. She stopped him, however, with a simple calling of his name.

“Emil,” She said. He froze, then rerouted himself to face her once again. She bit her lower lip harshly. She didn’t know quite was to say. She could’ve, perhaps, suggested that he’d unchain her, or at the very least, let her down, but instead she just asked, “What are you going to do?”

Emil hated how innocent she sounded. Looked, too. She was the perfect image of purity and it infuriated Emil. If Li didn’t like her already, he would soon, he told himself. 

His mind, in those moments, seemed like a battle of sorts-- like two versions of himself sitting at a table, simply staring at each other as one waited for the other’s will or patience to break, and the other thousands of him serving as audience. One side of him wanted to hurt Sakura, badly, while the other one was not an angel. No, the other one wanted her hurt too-- just not as badly and certainly not by his hands. Outside Emil was indifferent and tempting. Inside Emil was pressuring Outside Emil by listing all the feelings he’d be sure to feel if he did indulge, and Outside Emil had to admit, those feelings seemed convincing enough. He would’ve indulged, for sure, if it weren’t for, well, Li. 

He sat in that audience and indifference couldn’t help but stare at him. He was asking questions-- listing things that could occur if he really did Indulge. He capitalized the ‘i’ in Indulge, saying how Emil would deal with that every day, but at every moment, and with everyone. Doors would open, he said, doors that Emil would rather leave shut. And so the battle of wits and the love interest. Would Emil choose to Indulge, and feed Inside Emil’s beast, or hold back and keep his sanity just for the sake of Li? 

He began to taste blood from biting his cheeks so hard, and eventually let out a sigh, exasperated. He stopped finally and looked back over at Sakura.

“I don’t…” He hesitated for a moment before continuing. “I don’t know what to do.” 

Sakura didn’t know what to say. She opened her mouth to answer, but quickly shut it when she realized there was nothing she really  _ could  _ say. It was entirely up to Emil now, that much she knew. Either she would be killed that night or a different night. Thinking bout this made her realize something else: she was going to die. Now, what the real conflict was, was either she would suffer a drawn out and tortuous death dealt by the man who loved the dark or the man who had brought her there in the first place, or both-- or, she would die quickly and with minimal pain. A rather happy ending for Sakura, considering the things she experienced while Emil hadn’t been there. Three weeks of torture-- emotional, sexual, or otherwise-- one type wouldn’t suffice-- she’d been through it all. The best ending she could have now was a mercy murder. So, finally accepting her fate, she spoke once more. 

“Please kill me.” Emil flinched-- not from shock, but at the sound of the request. He shivered. Could he really? He looked up at her with eyes the size of saucers. 

“Why?”

“It’s the least you can do, Emil. This… I’m not leaving, I know that now.” 

Emil stared at her for a second-- a long second-- before finally asking, “Are you sure?” Sakura took a moment before nodding. She smiled kindly. 

“At least when you do it, it’ll be less torturous and, well, painful.” Her smile faltered then, and her eyes met with the stone floor beneath her feet. “You’ll do that for me, right?” She whispered. 

Emil was silent as he made his way to the chest. He pulled the lid of the crate open, but not before grabbing it by the handle and pulling it closer to where Sakura hung. 

She watched as he dug through the pile of weapons, noticing every twitch of his muscle, and every fight he has through his eyes. She didn’t know what exactly he was going through, but what she did know was that it was a battle that he fought likely everyday. Emil had problems, to say the least, but he clearly wanted to keep them burried deep. Sakura didn’t think that was very healthy, but if it kept others safe, she felt as if it was the only thing he could really do. 

Emil pushed his hands into the collection, avoiding every stray blade he catch sight of, and luckily, he didn’t get cut once. Instead, his hand traveled through the mess of weapons until finally hitting the the bottom of the crate with a ‘thump!’ His hands still searched the bottom even then; searching until one grasped a thin handle of a blade of some sort. 

He pulled it out and pushed up a button, revealing a short, slanted blade. He let out a nervous breath. A box cutter. 

“Will this…” He looked up at Sakura, who simply nodded as tears collected in her eyes. 

“Y-Yeah… But, could you please--” She glanced up at the chain latched to the ceiling, then met Emil’s eyes. “I know I’m asking for a lot, but--”   
“It’s no problem,” Emil suddenly muttered, ambling towards the ladder, and just moments later, Emil had climbed up said ladder and had began working on the chains. “This might hurt,” He warned. 

Sakura let out a shaky sigh. “Just do it. I’ll be okay.” 

Emil then nodded, wrapping his left hand around the free tail of the chain and clenching his hand around the hook attached it to the ceiling. With a grunt, he lifted up the hook, and after silently counting to three, he jerked it to the side, sending Sakura to the ground despite his efforts to let her down safely. She hit the ground his a yelp, and Emil rushed her side, inspecting her limbs any broken bones. 

She let out a pained groan. “Just do it!” She shouted suddenly. Emil jumped and moved the box cutter close to her abdomen, but stopped at the sound of a voice in his head telling him to melt into the moment and hold on to every scream he’d likely hear. And that final battle was nearly won by Outside Emil, but another influence from the physical world drew out the fight for longer. 

“You’re gonna let her get away with? Really, that whore?” Emil recognized that voice despite only hearing it the the first time in the past hour or so. It was Mathias. Sakura gazed at the man behind him with wide eyes, making him chuckle darkly. “Hello, sweetheart,” He grinned broadly. “Miss me?” 

Sakura gasped. “Emil,” She whimpered. “Emil!” She said again, voice louder this time. “Please do it, please, please kill me, please, please..” She was sobbing now-- the tears streamed down her cheeks as she choked on her own labored breaths. She trembled so hard that Emil could hear her chains rattle. He was frozen, but at the same time, a part inside of him relished in her agony; in her fear. He couldn’t say he didn’t love it any longer, because he did, and he knew that. 

But Emil, instead of dealing more pain and instead of just hovering over her, climbed back over her legs and sat in front of her. He didn’t look at her, but instead kept his eyes on the box cutter in his hands. 

“Emil,” Mathias said quietly, his voice gentle as he rested a hand on his shoulder and knelt beside him. “Look at her.” Emil obeyed and met her eyes. “Isn’t she disgusting? See those marks on her breasts? We didn’t do that. And the bruises on her on cunt.” He watched Emil’s eyes flick back in forth between the mentioned body parts. His face was pale from Want at that point. Mathias knew the torn feeling. It somehow occurred to him that it must’ve been his first time feeling it, because he clearly didn’t know what to do or how to handle it. But Lukas wanted a new family member, and Mathias was set on delivering. So, he decided to add one more thing-- just a small thing to fuel the fire. 

He leaned over, placing his mouth beside his ear, and whispered, “She probably got that from Li.” And Emil’s eyes flamed. Sakura gazed back at him with widened eyes. 

“W-Wha??? No, Emil, don’t listen to him! It wasn’t Li! I swear, it wasn’t Li!” 

Mathias laughed. “Don’t listen to  _ her _ , Emil, she’s a lying slut! She’ll do anything to make it out of here alive!” 

Sakura’s body racked with sobs. “No,  _ please _ , Emil,  _ please _ ,  _ please kill me!” _ Emil was shaking now too and gasping for air as his lungs felt as if they had bursted. And then, he suddenly remembered the feeling; recalled feeling it once before; recalled the suffocating hell of it, and remembered how he handled it the first time. His mind suddenly shot back to when he was a child, and his previous life was left behind, and he remembered-- remembered what the hell he went through, remembered his mother, and everything that They did. He remembered, and it took complete control of his brain. 

 

_ Emil was walking down the walkway quietly as snow fell around him. The air felt still-- almost empty. He loved the snow despite living in it for his entire life. Normally people would say otherwise, but Emil was different. Much different.  _

_ He turned the corner of the walkway, and looked up when he arrived at the gate of his fence. He froze when he met eyes with his mother, who stood in only her shirt and underwear, sans shoes and with a wooden spoon in her hand. Her expression was stone cold, and she didn’t say a single word. Emil gazed at her with wide eyes, silent.  _

_ “Emil,” She called out, sensing his presence somewhere in the snow. “I know you’re here. Come to mommy.”  _

_ Emil lifted his foot to take a step backwards, but winced when it made a crunching sound. His mother’s eyes narrowed.  _

_ “Emil. Come here.”  _

_ Emil let out a shaky breath and pushed the fence door open. He walked to his mother slowly, lingering a few feet away.  _

_ “We got a call from your school.”  _

 

_ “Your sister told us everything.”  _

 

_ “They said you didn’t come to school.”  _

 

_ “Do you know what your father will do once he gets home?” _

 

_ “You’re in big trouble young man.”  _

 

_ “Get inside. Now.”  _

 

Emil was trembling now for reasons he didn’t particularly know. But now Inside Emil had control, and so did Hurt, and Remembrance. He gripped the handle of the box cutter tightly-- gripping it until his knuckles were white. He felt a whine escape his lips and he began to climb over Sakura’s body once more. 

“Why did you lie?” He whimpered. “You know they called for you. You know what he did-- you would’ve been okay…” 

He sat on her stomach as tears streamed down his face. Sakura’s eyes grew to the size of china plates, watching the blade in Emil’s left hand.

“Emil?” 

“Liar,” He whispered.

“Emil, I don’t know what you’re--” 

“Liar!” He gripped the boxcutter with both hands now, and was raising it above his head. “You lied to mom, and you lied to me-- you betrayed me! Hann tók alla! Hann tók sakleysi mitt, þú vissir að hann gerði! Þú laugst og þeir trúa þér! Faðirinn tók allt. Hann tók alltaf, tók hann tók sér …” He began mumbling in his native language then, until eventually breaking off and whispering in complete gibberish. Sakura watched him with fearful eyes as Mathias watched him with excited ones. 

Once his voice was almost inaudible, Sakura spoke again. “What are you talking abou--” And suddenly, Emil jumped and drove the knife down, but he didn’t stop there. He plunged it into her abdomen again and again, somehow missing every major organ and just causing excruciating pain. He sobbing hysterically-- sobbing words-- especially ‘liar’-- he had no control over over his muscles and though he missed most of her organs, she eventually bled out, and it took him a moment to regain complete consciousness and realize he was stabbing a corpse. 

He sat back and stared at the mess he made. Mathias kneeled beside him again, grinning ear to ear. 

“Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it, Emil? Lukas probably has dinner done, so we should go eat.” He slapped Emil on the back. “Welcome to the family, Emi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop~! Whoop~! Haha lol (giving more information on Emil's past in coming chapters)


	11. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The headmaster of Carolina and the school board work together to bring the student's grades back up, but at a price.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop~ Whoop~ It's been too long. Sorry. I tried my best to make this a long one but it's only about 3,000 words... I will try my best to update sooner!!! >~<  
> Anyways, enjoy!!!

It had been a month since the incident involving Natalya’s disappearance, however, everyone was still, to a degree, a bit uneasy. The boys of the school felt less afraid, but they still were frightened, considering the fact that girls were not the only people that had disappeared. The school board eventually noticed the tension that hung over the school, and when they began to see a decline in student GPAs, they felt it was best to have the students relieved from their troubles. With this idea in mind, they sent a speaker to initiate a conversation with the headmaster and come up with a plan. 

They decide to Neeraja Patel, an Indian honors student that had recently graduated from Caroline with the president of the school board, Arsenius Vargas, to speak with Headmaster Folkert Beilschmidt. Folkert was straightening his tie and prepping himself for the coming conversation, unaware that he was about to speak with a former fling, when a rapping came from the oak door.

He cleared his throat and approached the door with his hands behind his back. 

“Come in,” He called, his baritone voice a bit strained from his most recent cold. The door opened then, revealing a stone-faced Indian boy. Folkert nodded to him and extended his hand. 

“Hello. You must be Neeraja.” He had taken the time to practice pronouncing his name before Neeraja arrived. The graduate nodded to him. 

“Headmaster Beilschmidt.” He walked into the room with his clipboard drawn to his chest, leaving the door open behind him. He had sat down in the chair facing Folkert’s desk when he suddenly met Folkert’s confused eyes. “You didn’t think I came here alone, did you?” 

Folkert frowned at him one last time before hesitantly approaching the door and pushing it open to it’s fullest extent. This revealed one last face-- the face he hoped to never see again; Arsenius Vargas, the father of the Italian boys that had ran away with his youngest son, and a lover of sorts from his own time in Caroline. He swallowed hard, trying his best to scowl at Arsenius’s broad smile. 

“Mr. Vargas. It is a pleasure to--” He grunted then as he was suddenly taken into a full bear hug by the Italian man. ‘Mr. Vargas’ laughed boastfully, shaking Folkert within the embrace and even lifting him off of his feet for a moment. 

“Folkert!” He shouted gleefully, his voice, slathered in that Italian accent that his own children had taken after. “Ciao! It is great to see your face!” Folkert groaned again, feeling an ache from his abdomen. He briefly hugged him back, but only to get him to push away.

“Arsenius… It is good to see you as well.” Said Italian pulled away then, the same smile still carved into his face as just wide as it had been before.

“It has been too long. See, I knew you’d become something boring like this. But that’s just Folkert for ya, haha! Boring and stoic, haha,” He chuckled. 

“I wasn’t aware you’d be coming as well,” Folkert mumbled disdainfully. He twirled a strand of his long blond hair between his fingers. “I wasn’t even aware you were head of the school board.” 

Arsenius laughed again. “Surprising, right? I believe that was your son’s reaction as well…” 

Folkert stood straight then, alert at the sound of that word. “My son?” He echoed. “You spoke to Ludwig?” Arsenius nodded. 

“Si, I have. He is very handsome and strong. It appears he has taken after his father, huh? Hahaha…” 

Folkert swallowed hard and began to feel a familiar warmth in his chest. He hated it-- despised it, even-- but yet, he could not help but bask in it. He had missed Arsenius, unfortunately, despite his arrogant and flirtatious nature. He had also missed the warmth he brought around with him everywhere. 

For a moment, it was just Folkert and Arsenius; reunited after nearly thirty years. Folkert nearly smiled too, but he did not have the chance to, as only a few moments after the feeling began, Neeraja suddenly appeared beside them, with the same stone-cold look on his face and dead look in his eyes. “Shall we begin our discussion?” He asked, monotone.  

Folkert flinched but nodded anyways. He cleared his throat again. “Yes, that would be best.” He glanced over at the single chair facing his desk. “I’m afraid there’s only one seat--” 

“Ah, it’s fine. I’ll just sit on the futon.” Folkert began to protest, but stopped when he realized it’d just fuel Arsenius’s arrogance. 

“Alright.” 

The conversation began rather innocent, with talk of a ditch day for the students, free lunch for a week, or a visit from their families, but as the minutes crawled by, Folkert could not ignore Arsenius’s strange silence and suggestive glances for much time. 

“Do you have anything to add?” Folkert asked, visibly irritated, Neeraja turned around to face him, awaiting an answer. Most people would freeze under the hard gazes of Folkert, the German known to be strict towards most children, and Neeraja, Indian graduate that had never been witnessed exhibiting emotions, but Arsenius simply shrugged with a small smile on his face. 

“Ah, I was just thinking…” He chuckled lightly as he ran a hand through his hair. “Do you really think a free lunch day will cure the students’ fears of disappearing?” 

Folkert stared at him for a moment before helplessly groaning inwardly. “What to you suggest, then?” He asked. 

Arsenius grinned. “A retreat!” Neeraja frowned, while Folkert rose an eyebrow. 

“A retreat?” The two echoed. Arsenius nodded. 

“Si.” 

“For how long?” Neeraja asked, skeptical. 

“Three weeks.” 

“A month?” Folkert nearly glared at Arsenius. He clearly didn’t think it was a good idea.

“I didn’t say that,” Arsenius replied. “I said three weeks.” 

Neeraja was the next to ask a question. He drew his pen close to the papers clipped onto his board. “And how would this help the students?” 

“Well, it’d give them a break,” Arsenius answered. “They’ve been through a lot. Some of them had their closest friends taken away from them. Their family.” He shrugged again and slumped back against the sofa, crossing his legs casually. “They need a break. It’s understandable.” 

Folkert took a moment, staring at the calendar on his desk before sighing in defeat. “He’s right,” He said, meeting eyes with Neeraja. 

“Are you sure?” The former student asked. 

Folkert nodded. “Ja… I believe so.” Upon receiving a questioning glance from Neeraja, he added something more, “It’s best for the children.” 

Neeraja seemed to be satisfied with the response as he quickly nods and scribbles some words on a notepad. “But, as you know, they should continue to learn and receive a physical education,” He responded. 

“So, take em’ to camp! Three-week long affair, it’s already May, so it’s warm enough! Invite the entire class! I heard Woodsdale is great for those kind of things!” Arsenius chimed in. Folkert considered this for a moment before nodding again.

“Yes, that will work fine. Put that down and tell the school board. They’ll call together a meeting with the faculty and parents…” 

Neerja wrote all of this down, taking only a few minutes before standing up and starting towards the door. Folkert frowned at him from his desk. 

“Where are you going?”

Neerja turned back. “To alert the school board.” Then he turned to Arsenius. “Mr. Vargas.” 

Said president glanced up from picking at the cotton fibers of his jeans. “Hm?” 

“You won’t need to be following. I can handle this myself…” Neerja’s eyes moved from the Italian to the German, all the while smirking playfully. “Take some time to catch up. I already canceled all your appointments~” 

From Folkert’s point of view, it seemed as if Neerja was insinuating something. He didn’t quite know why at the time, but noticing the pink in Arsenius’s cheeks, he could tell it was something suggestive. 

Neerja opened the door slowly before turning to the side briefly and calling, “Ciao.” Then he left, leaving Folkert and Arsenius. It was silent for quite some time; awfully silent. 

Folkert began searching through his calendar for an excuse to abandon Arsenius-- to go to a meeting, for anything, but his schedule was clear. He sat back in his chair with an inward groan. 

Arsenius was sitting on the sofa, tapping his foot impatiently. It was quiet for some time after that-- at least, quiet until the Italian finally spoke. 

“Have you missed me, tesoro?” 

Folkert shuttered, the memories flooding his mind as the word echoes about the room. “Don’t call me that.” 

“Answer the question.” 

Folkert turned his eyes towards Arsenius, expecting to glare at his turned-down face, but found him staring right back with daring, determined eyes. He shifted uncomfortably in his leather chair and averted his eyes. “Yes,” He replied cautiously. “Yes, I have. I still do.” 

“Then why are we being like this?” Folkert met his eyes once more. “If we care about one another--” 

“It will never work out,” Folkert interrupted. 

“You don’t know that.” 

“I do.” The German clenched his fists in his lap. “What would be thought of me? Me, a public figure. A headmaster to the largest, most productive school in the EU-- gay? With an… An Italian man… I would be blasphemed. I’d be let go. I’d lose everything.  _ You’d  _ lose everything.”

Arsenius shook his head, and stood up from his sofa. He rushed over to Folkert’s desk, kneeling in front of his chair and grasping his hands. “I don’t care. People wouldn’t care. It’s 2017… No one  _ cares  _ anymore.” 

“It’s not just that…” Folkert continued reluctantly. Arsenius gazed at him with curious eyes. “My sons… What would they think…” 

Arsenious stared at him for another second before snorting. “Your son, judging you for being gay?” Folkert continued to look at him the same, and Arsenious couldn’t help but laugh. “I didn’t want to say anything,” Arsenious started, still chuckling. “But your son left because he is in love with my boy, Feliciano.” Folkert’s eyes widened. 

“Feliciano is…” 

“They both are,” Arsenious jeered. “Even Lovino. He was with that Spanish boy before he…” He gazed off for a moment, but eventually shook his head to rid himself of the memories. “Nobody will care. Besides, we’re both public figures. No one will care.” 

“No one will care?” Folkert repeated. Arsenious grinned. 

“Yes, no one will care, tesoro.” 

“I can… Be with you…” Folkert’s frown softened. “I can be with you.” 

“Si, yes! You may, you can, both of us, together forever! We can keep our lives, our families…” Just then, Folkert suddenly pulled Arsenious up from the floor and to his lap. Arsenious giggled when he saw the widened child-like look in his eyes. “What is it, Folkert?”

Folkert was at a loss for words. “I… I want you to… You to… T-Tou-- T-T… Ou… Ch…” Arsenious smiled. 

“You want me to touch you?” Folkert blushed. 

“J-Ja…” 

The Italian’s smile grew as he leaned in closer-- so close that Folkert could feel his breath across his cheek. 

“Ah,” He said. “I see. Well… If you want to so bad…” Folkert didn’t even think it was possible, but somehow, Arsenious leaned even further-- until the point where their lips touched. “Then I’d better do so.” 

Just as Arsenious pressed his lips against Folkert’s softly, the phone sitting atop Folkert’s desk let out a shrill ring. A voice came from the speaker, cutting through the air and pulling the men apart. 

“Headmaster Beilschmidt,” A strict, yet clearly dignified voice rang from the speakers. “You are needed in the visitation centre.” The voice broke off and the speakers were silent. Folkert let out an exasperated sigh. 

“Mein Gott…” 

Arsenius simpered. “Well, so much for that, huh?”  He commented as he pushed himself off of Folkert. The German stood, staring at him square in the eye as he straightened his jacket. 

“Meet me in my sleeping quarters at thirteen hundred hours.” He started towards the door. 

“Oh? Careful there, Folkert, your military is beginning to show.” 

Folkert just smirked as he exited his room, but not before hearing one final word; “Ciao.” 

 

==

 

Arthur Kirkland walked into his homeroom classroom with Kiku Honda trailing closely behind him, likely reading his book and therefore paying no attention to his surroundings. This was confirmed when Kiku suddenly fell on the floor from catching his foot on a chair leg. He hit the ground with a grunt, causing the students around him to let out a chorus of laughs. 

Arthur sighed, exasperated, and knelt down to collect Kiku’s books and help him up. He smiled weakly at Arthur upon standing up. 

He took back his books. “Thanks.” 

“Pay attention next time,” Arthur muttered in response. 

They sat back down in their seats and were silent for a couple of minutes before Kiku finally spoke. 

“Did you hear about Sakura Honda?” He asked, his voice low. Arthur turned around, and resting his arm on Kiku’s desk, he shook his head.

“Don’t think so,” He shrugged. “Why? Did something happen?” 

“She went missing…” Kiku traced a circle on the cover of his book, clearly thinking deeply. 

“What?”

“Oh, um… It’s just that, my friend knew her, and he’s kind of…” He cleared his throat. “Torn up about her.” 

Arthur rose an eyebrow. “A boyfriend?” Kiku shook his head. 

“Just a friend. A really close friend…” He sighed, and looking back at Arthur, he said, somberly, “I knew her. Kind of. She was nice-- really nice… She wouldn’t run away… But I don’t know why anyone would want to do anything to her.” 

Arthur sighed. “I don’t know,” He murmured. “Maybe she’s okay. How long has she been gone?” 

Kiku bit his lip nervously. “Three weeks.”   
“Bloody Hell.” Arthur suddenly slapped his hand over his mouth. He waited for a moment before removing it and continuing. “Really?” Kiku nodded. “Well, what about her parents?” 

Kiku scoffed. “They don’t know.” 

“They don’t know?”

“If they did,” The Japanese student could hardly keep from rolling his eyes. “They don’t care.” 

Arthur stared at him for a moment before the bell suddenly rang, and the teacher walked in. The rest of the students were close behind, but of course, ol’ Mr. Kraler wouldn’t object much. Most of them were worth something to Caroline.

He sat his suitcase on his desk and opened it, removing a book and two folders of papers. He sat it beside his chair with a heavy sigh. 

Just then, Gilbert somehow managed to avoid his gaze, and sneak into the classroom. He lept over a few empty desks to sit in his beside Arthur’s. Arthur just glanced at him.

“Okay, children,” Mr. Kraler called out. “I have an announcement.” 

Gilbert chuckled darkly. “Mr. Kraler participating in class? Damn, this must be important.” Arthur couldn’t help but sneer. 

“It is under the school board that I must inform you of a class trip we will all be taking.” And just then, just as always, the same hand that always rose shot up from the crowd of students. A group of jocks in the corner groaned. “Raivis,” Mr. Kraler called on the Latvian student with a look of exhaustion in his eyes. 

“Will it be the entire grade coming along to the trip?” He asked innocently-- so innocently, in fact, that it made most of the students feel guilty for simply feeling annoyed towards the kid. Even Arthur felt ashamed. The room went quiet to hear the answer, as this question, unlike most of Raivis’s, was intriguing, and a question that everyone present wanted to know the answer to. 

Mr. Kraler nodded. “Yes, I believe so. And it will also be a month-long trip, so, back your bags as soon as class is over.” 

“When do we leave?” Raivis asked. 

“Next morning at precisely 6.30. And, you didn’t hear it from me, but I heard it was a retreat.” 

Many of the students let out a relieved sigh, and those who didn’t simply smiled. None of them had been on a school retreat before, and most of them had no idea why the trip was even taking place-- all didn’t, in fact, except for Gilbert and Arthur. Kiku, however, was with the other 99%. Gilbert crossed his arms as he tipped back in his chair. “Hmph.” 

Kiku gazed at him questioningly. “What?”

Arthur sighed and took the wheel. “Our GPAs have been dropping.” Kiku rose an eyebrow. 

“How would you know that?” 

“It’s the only reason the headmaster would allow us to do this,” Gilbert explained. “Clearly, the missing people have been stressing us out, and therefore, our grades have been dropping. Everyone still wants our school to be top in the EU, so they’re fixing it the only way they can.”

“A retreat?” Kiku asked, still not convinced. “What about our education?” 

“My guess is,” Arthur shrugged. “That this’ll be an educational summer camp more than anything.” 

That’s when Kiku understood. The remainder of the class was spent as it always was-- reading and learning nothing. It wasn’t until the end of class that it dawned on Arthur; Alfred was going to be there too, and without the school regulations that had been keeping the two apart, he’d have every chance and opportunity to approach his ex-lover. Arthur shuddered. This wouldn’t be good. 

  
  
  


_ May 1, 2017-- May Day.  _

_ Police Officer, Akantha Karpusi discloses to the public that the body of Natalya Braginsky has been found on the shore of a swamp located on her school’s grounds.  _

_ Her siblings, Ivan and Katyusha do not comment on the situation, but it appears they are very distressed.  _

_ Her death was ruled a suicide. _

_ (Excerpt from The Guardian; Newspaper located in London, Great Britain.) _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let us pray for Arthur. He's going to need it. (ノ-_-)ノ~


	12. Traveling to a Likely Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The students leave for Woodsdale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a lil short one for ya'll. Just an in between chapter.

Ivan Braginsky approached the doors of the bus with his ticket in hand. He stood behind the line of students doing the same thing with his roommate, Emil Steilsson, by his side. He glanced over at the Icelandic boy many times, trying to read his face and find out just what he was thinking. He did not return the favor, but instead, stared blankly ahead of him with a dead look in his eyes. 

Ivan was always good at telling a person’s character-- most of the time. The only people that seemed to escape this ability was his own lover, Alfred Jones, and, Emil, it seemed. He had known Emil for a good few months, but he still felt that, despite the lack of time they had known each other, he should have been able to tell by then. Either Emil was emotionless, or extremely talented at hiding said emotions. 

Just then, Emil met his eyes with a quizzical look. “Do you need something?” He asked. 

Ivan blinked. “Um,” He fidgeted. “Sorry. I was spacing off.” 

Emil rose an eyebrow, clearly not buying the situation Ivan described. “You’ve been glancing at me constantly for the last ten minutes.” The line advanced, and the two stepped ahead a few steps. “Are sure there’s nothing you need?” 

Ivan considered telling him for a moment, but decided it was best not to do so. 

“No,” He said. “It’s fine. I’m just out of it today.” 

Emil didn’t seem to buy this either, but decided to let it go regardless. The two stood in silence for the duration of their time in line, weighted by an uncomfortable cloud of tension. Luckily, however, they weren’t in line for long, and were on the bus in no time. 

They separated there, naturally. Ivan left to go sit with some blond Emil had never seen before, and he sat alone. Well, at least for a few minutes. 

“Emil?” Said student turned away from his window to face whomever had spoke to him. Once he did, however, he was at a loss for words. 

“Li,” He choked, his cheeks warm with crimson blush. The boy smiled-- somewhat sadly. 

“Hello. Are you sitting alone?” Emil opened his mouth to answer, but stopped when he noticed the red shine in his eyes. “It’s just that…” He tugged on the collar of his jacket. “I normally sit with Sakura, but…” 

Emil’s mouth went dry. 

_ Oh,  _ He remembered.  _ Right.  _ It’s not like he could forget. His first kill… He nearly shuddered at the memory. What an animal he had been. 

He had spent weeks trying to figure out just what triggered him to act in such a way, but he could not find out anything. It was as if his subconscious-- or Inside Emil-- had taken over, leaving Outside Emil with nothing but eyes to watch. Maybe not even that. He sort of regretted doing that. Not ending her life, but the act he partook in to do so. It was truly disgraceful.

Emil smiled weakly and nodded. “It’s alright,” His voice was hoarse. He cleared his throat to clean up the sound. “You can sit by me.”   
Li nodded and sat beside him with his bookbag drawn to his chest. “Thanks,” He murmured. 

The bus started moving then, beginning the two-hour long trip to an outdoor retreat called Woodsdale. Throughout the entire length of the ride, and awkwardness, teachers spoke out on megaphones, informing students on what they would see and experience as they struggled to see through tired eyes. Most of them hadn’t had their coffee yet, Emil noticed. 

He picked at his jacket anxiously.  _ This is going to be excruciating. _

 

Meanwhile, as the students made their way across counties, just a two buses away from Emil’s, a bus drove carrying a rather loud bunch of students-- most of which Arthur despised. Said Brit glared at Gilbert Beilschmidt, a student that never had anything better to do than join forces with Francis and bother Arthur. The Prussian boy, at the time, was throwing wads of dough at Raivis, a quiet Latvian boy belonging to the same class as both Gilbert and Arthur. 

It wasn’t until Arthur snatched the container of dough away when the event stopped. 

“Hey!” Gilbert shouted, reaching to grab it back. However, Arthur was resilient. 

The blond snarled. “Get away,” He growled. “Leave the kid alone, he’s done nothing but behave, which is more than what you’ve been doing.” 

Gilbert glared right back, ready to shoot some remarks of his own, when one of the teachers shouted at him to sit down. He did, strangely enough, with a huff. 

He crossed his arms and bared his teeth at Arthur when he noticed him smirking. 

Arthur turned back towards the window with a sigh. He watched as the trees and fields passed by, sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly, depending on British traffic. Surprisingly, it was rather minimal that day. He also watched as the bus switched lanes, passing a number of cars and a bus belonging to Caroline. They were about to pass another Carolinian bus when Arthur’s eyes suddenly met with another pair through the other bus’s window. 

Their owner smirked, then grinned, at Arthur through the glass. He felt his insides freeze.  _ Alfred. _

It was only a few kilometres away from his freedom. 

_ God, help me.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo o oo nn n


	13. Unresolved Tensions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivan is asked to tell his roommates of his secret crush.  
> Gilbert tries to get Ivan to understand that Alfred does not have to control his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyy I'm always late. And it's short. Sorry lolol  
> Next chapter gets juiiccyyy (i think idk lets hope)

It didn’t take much time before all of the students had exited bus, but even then, it seemed as if the students had nothing better to do than stand around idly. It was nearly a half an hour until the teachers had enough. And when this happened, the only thing that could be said was that they weren’t very happy. 

They shouted at the students constantly after that, bound and determined to make it through the day without a corpse. Each student was placed in cabins according to age and homeroom, and for the first time in the history of Caroline Academy, discluding gender. Needless to say, it easily divided the children, and put them into said cabins quite quickly. 

(I suppose I should now inform you on the placements, eh?) 

Emil Steilsson was placed in a room within Cabin 6 with Sebastian Vargas, the third in the absent Italian trio, Germaine Bonnefoy, a girl with glasses that Emil didn’t know much about, Eduard von Bock, an Estonian boy known for his cowardly nature and his friendship with Raivis Galante, and finally, probably the worse thing for Emil-- the worst possible thing, even-- Li Xiao Chun, Caroline’s most popular quiet boy and Emil’s first-- and current-- obsession.

Ivan Braginsky was placed a few houses away with Francis Bonnefoy, a very romantic French man he had heard about from Alfred a few times, Gilbert Beilschmidt, a Prussian slacker that Alfred hates, but Ivan finds himself drawn toward, Heracles Karpusi, a sleepy Greek transfer that Ivan did not see himself socializing with in their time there, and Tino Vainamoinen, a seemingly sweet Finnish boy that was found either blushing hopelessly or in cowardice. 

Arthur took a room in Cabin 2 with Mathias Kohler, Elizaveta Hedervary, a strong Hungarian girl who carried a frying pan with her wherever she went, Roderich Edelstein (some pianist from Austria. No one really likes him, and he doesn’t really like anybody.), Lukas Bondevik, and his very own best friend, Kiku Honda. 

And at last, our special American super-villain, Alfred F. Jones, is placed in Cabin 8 with Berwald Oxenstierna, a tall Swedish man with a deep hatred toward Alfred. There were four others, but none had any significance to him, so he didn’t really remember them. 

Despite Arthur being miracally separated from his former lover, he was fearful, considering the chance that Alfred could always trespass and break into Arthur’s cabin to assault him somehow. The British boy let out a heavy sigh as he unpacked his bags, thinking deeply on the subject. A pair of hands crept up Arthur’s back, and he suddenly felt a breath on his ear. His lungs emptied as a low, dark chuckle entered his ear. He spun around then, terrified, but found nothing upon doing so. A relieved, yet shaken breath, escaped his lips. 

“Arthur?” A voice suddenly inquired. Arthur looked over at the bed adjacent to him. Kiku stood beside it, unpacking his own suitcase, with a concerned expression on his face. “Are you alright?” He asked. 

Arthur just shook his head and returned to unpacking his things.  _ ‘It’s nothing,’  _ He wanted to say.  _ ‘I’m fine.’  _ But he really wasn’t fine. Not at all. 

 

Later that day, around the time night fell, in Cabin 6, Ivan lay atop his assigned bed as he read a book entitled something in German. He really didn’t understand, but it gave him a reason not to talk to anyone without seeming rude. However, it still didn’t work. People still approached him, and even eventually centered their complete attention unto him. Each of the five students he roomed with suddenly stopped their conversation to stare at him; something he didn’t notice until he reached the end of the second page. He looked up from said page, meeting the eyes of the Frenchman mentioned earlier. His eyes moved to meet the others’ too. 

“What?” He asked. Francis grinned. 

“Tell us.” 

Ivan raised his eyebrow, immediately hesitant and suspicious. He shrugged, knowing nothing of what he was speaking of. “Tell you what?” He asked again. Tino smiled. 

“Tell us your crush,” Tino chirped, almost noiselessly. “We know you have one. We saw you spacing off just then.” 

“Ich werde ihn niemals berühren lassen, Iwan. Du bist so entzückend, ich liebe dich vielleicht,” Gilbert suddenly hummed. 

Ivan stared at him with blank eyes. “What?” 

Gilbert snorted. “See, I knew it.” He laughed. “You don’t know German.”

Ivan suddenly sighed, giving up. He threw the red, leather-felt book onto his mattress. “Alright, fine,” He admitted. “You got me. But just because I was spacing off--” 

“Is it Alfred?” Tino interrupted. Ivan watched as Francis’s grin faltered. He then felt a cloud of pity well up in his mind. 

“No,” Ivan shook his head. “What we have…” He took a moment to think about it, but ended up shaking his head once again. “It isn’t romantic. Just sexual. Alfred was very… Sexually-deprived, so-to-say, growing up. It wasn’t healthy.” He tried his best to play the question off without meeting Gilbert’s eyes, but it didn’t work. He met his eyes, and even catched this jealousy that flashed through his eyes. 

Ivan had known for the longest time of Gilbert’s feelings of protectiveness toward him, but he had tried for an equally long amount of time to ignore it. It, of course, never worked out as much as he could’ve hoped it would, but at the same time, he liked that little light in his corner. 

Gilbert quickly cleared his throat. “Then, assuming you weren’t thinking of hot kinky sex with American macho-man, you must have been thinking of someone else.” Gilbert smirked at Ivan’s sudden flusteredness. 

“W-Well…” Hercules chuckled into his pillow. 

“Ivan is interested in someone… How complicated.” 

Francis had then returned to his formerly perverted state, and was sneering amusedly at Ivan’s flushed cheeks. 

“Mon ami, you must tell me.” Francis crawled toward the end of his bed. “Who do you love?” 

Ivan’s blush deepened to dark crimson. “I don’t…” He picked at the skin of his thumb. His eyes slowly shifted to the side, and eventually violet met with red. Gilbert blushed too. Ivan continued as he stared into Gilbert’s eyes relentlessly, “It’s complicated.” 

“What if it’s not as complicated as you think?” Gilbert asked. “What if it doesn’t have to be complicated?” 

Ivan bit his lip. “What about Alfred?” 

Suddenly, Gilbert climbed off of his bed and approached Ivan’s. He sat on the edge of Ivan’s bed with a look of desperation on his face. “Forget Alfred,” He said. “He’s nobody. If you love somebody…” He clenched the covers within his fists. “Then you should be with them. End of story.” 

They stared into each other’s eyes for a few more moments, sitting in complete silence as their roommates watched carefully. 

“Wow,” Francis suddenly cut in. “You’re really good at reading his thoughts, Gilbert.” Said Prussian only shrugged. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Gilbert muttered. “He won’t change.” 

Ivan opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. He was right. Ivan wouldn’t change. He should’ve, he knew that, but he couldn’t. Instead he just sat on his bed with his head hung for a few moments before a voice called for the bedtime. After that, the lights went out, bathing the group in darkness. 

Most of the group was silent, with Hercules asleep as soon as the room went black, and the rest climbing underneath their covers. Gilbert threw his own covers over his shoulder with a huff. He was clearly angry, though Ivan didn’t know why at the time. Ivan eventually slept too, but not before locking eyes with Francis and noticing a sad smile on his face. 

This was eventually forgotten, however, and Ivan got his rest. 

Day one comes to an end. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop~ Whoop~ RusPrus


	14. Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How can you love someone who hurt you so badly?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyy I'm back brossssss read this shiittti tt it's real good this time lmao

The next day, or, put more accurately, the first real day of “American summer camp” started as it would the rest of the following days. Ivan, Emil, Arthur, and the rest of the students were awoken by the sound of trumpets, which was, of course, unexpected, but cliche, considering the place the teenagers were all in. 

The students of Caroline were sent on a trip abroad. What was to become of the students at their destination wasn’t known. All they were told before was that they were to go on a retreat, and that they needed to pack hiking clothes and clothes suitable for the heat. But even though they weren’t asked to, most of the students brought a swimsuit on the suspicion that there would, indeed, be a body of water nearby. It was lucky that they did they, for today, the teachers and the “camp instructors” were taking them on a hike to the lake nearby. 

The lake was dubbed “Lake Aceda”, but only Alfred had knowledge of this. You see, the night before, he escaped his sleeping quarters with the intention of breaking into the front office for information on where they were, just to know, and also so he’d know how long it’d take the authorities or anyone else to get there. He did leave, and he did find out these pieces of information, but let’s just put them aside and leave you to wonder. He also cut a few telephone lines-- minor ones-- ones that nobody would notice, and a few semi-major ones for good measure. 

By the morning, Alfred already had his plan made and ready to carry out-- when it was time, that is. Later on that same morning, at about nine-thirty, Alfred and the rest of the “campers” were traveling down a hiking trail to reach a small lake. Lake Aceda.

“Okay, kids,” One of the camp instructors called out. “Today, we are going to spend the morning here at our good ol’ lake. Feel free to look around. You may hike, explore, and even swim today.” Many of the kids sighed in relief at the sound of that. 

After this speech, the students disbanded, each going with their friends, or remaining on their own and going to separate areas around the lake. 

Arthur was one of the few alone. Instead of going on a walk with his friends, as Kiku and Francis had asked, he decided to, once again, be alone. 

He stood at the beach, wading in the shallow water on the other side of the shoreline. He took a deep breath, and as he gazed into his reflection in the water, he began to feel old memories resurfacing. 

 

_ Two years prior; Office of Johnson High School, Arthur and Alfred’s last school in New York City.  _

_ Arthur sat in the chair facing the desk awkwardly. He crossed his legs and folded his hands into one another tightly. He was staring at the marble floor whilst his friend at the time, Francis Bonnefoy shouted at the headmaster relentlessly.  _

_ Arthur felt numb. He was deaf, too-- he had no idea of what either of them were saying. It was almost suffocating. Here had gone and told Francis, who demanded that he should speak to the headmaster on the situation to serve proper justice, saying how said justice would be served, and his problems would be heard, but now, here was that very same headmaster saying how he didn’t believe it; that Alfred Jones would never be gay, let alone be with Arthur and abuse him, as Francis and him had told him, and also, that even if it  _ was  _ indeed true, that it would be a bad idea to do anything. It would only cause trouble, he said. Unnecessary lawsuits and court visits.  _

_ Francis was furious at this, of course, but the headmaster wouldn’t budge. He wouldn’t punish Alfred. However, Francis did not stop fighting, and further into the session, he finally gave in and pulled out his phone. _

_ “What are you doing?” Francis demanded. The headmaster punched in some numbers, glancing at him briefly before scowling and answering.  _

_ “If you are being such a pain with me about a student not even present,” He said. “Then, I’m sure you won’t mind me calling him in.” He hit the call button then, and requested his secretary for Alfred’s class. Arthur suddenly looked up, immediately terrified.  _

_ “No!” He shouted. The headmaster paused and met his eyes. “No, no please don’t! If he found out I--”  _

_ “Oh, I see now,” The headmaster grinned sinisterly. He pointed at Arthur accusingly. “You’re afraid you’re going to be caught, now, aren’t you?” Arthur bit his tongue, afraid to say anything.  _

_ Francis began yelling again, but the headmaster went on to call him in regardless. Everyone was silent as they waited for his arrival, and when he did arrive, Arthur couldn’t help but tear up.  _

_ It first came with a rap at the door, followed by the headmaster allowing him in and Alfred walking in, upbeat as always.  _

_ “Mr. Frank,” He grinned broadly at the headmaster, not even noticing Arthur and Francis’s presence. “You called me?” _

_ “Yes, Mr. Jones,” He held his arm out, welcoming the American. “Yes, and I’m afraid it isn’t for good reason.”  _

_ Alfred laughed. “What is it? Have you found my--” He suddenly froze when he met eyes with Arthur. He was quiet for a moment before a dark gleam shone in his eyes. “What is this?” _

_ “Mr. Jones, these boys here,” He led Alfred in further before stepping past him and sitting in his desk chair. “Have accused of something… Ridiculous.”  _

_ Alfred grinned at Arthur, who just widened his eyes in return. “Oh, I’m sure it’s not that bad.”  _

_ “Oh, but it is.” The headmaster shot a glare at Francis, who shot one right back before continuing. “They have accused you of raping this… Boy, here. The one with the abnormally large eyebrows.” Mr. Frank sat back in his chair smugly. “The French one even threatened a lawsuit.” _ _  
_ _ “Really? Francis is, this true?”  _

_ “Fuck off,” Francis muttered angrily. Alfred just shrugged.  _

_ “Well, I’m sure you already know the truth, Mr. Frank. This is nothing but a prank.”  _

_ “A prank?!” Francis stood up from his chair. “Like hell--”  _

_ “Enough! Alfred has spoken, and I believe him.” The headmaster scowled at the other two with a look of disappointment in his eyes.  _

_ After that, they were excused, but not before the headmaster claimed that the two were lucky that Alfred didn’t take it seriously. Oh, how wrong he was.  _

_ After the session, and after Francis started back towards the office to “insult” Headmaster Frank further, Alfred approached Arthur as he was walking to his first period class.  _

_ Alfred grabbed Arthur by the arm, making him gasp. He pushed the smaller boy into the wall, holding his arms over his head, and pressing his knee against his crotch. He leaned in and placed his mouth beside Arthur’s ear. _

_ “That wasn’t very smart of you, Artie,” He grinned. “You shouldn’t be telling anyone of our relationship.”  _

_ Arthur bit his lip and whined as he turned his head away. Alfred persisted.  _

_ “Tell you what,” Alfred said. “I’ll let this go, but only if you drop it. Okay? Just drop it.”  _

_ And Arthur nodded, and Alfred left.  _

 

Coming back to reality, Arthur found his cheeks to be wet with tears. He shook his head in an attempt to get rid of the memory, but then he turned around and met eyes with Alfred. He was standing beside a teacher, supposedly in a conversation with her and ten other students. Arthur trembled. 

_ And yet, despite it all, Arthur still loved him.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied. It's sad. Mwahaha


	15. A Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur goes on a walk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's too short, sorry lads.

The rest of the day was spent mostly on everyone’s own individual schedule. Of course, the sociable students escaped the walls of their cabins to join with one another, but the quieter, more introverted kids tended to remain in the air conditioned spaces. As expected, Emil, Ivan, Kiku and Arthur were among the sane bunch. 

Arthur was, at first, sitting atop his bed, reading erotica, but he later decided to go on a walk for some fresh air. On this walk, he managed to avoid the gaze of watchful camp counselors and turn the corner to reach the back of a worker’s cabin. It was there he saw Alfred smoking nail with the other potheads and jocks. Arthur would have left right then and there, but he had met those baby blues he oh so missed. 

“Oi, it’s Artie,” Logan Kirkland sneered. He pointed a joint in his direction. “Want a smoke?” 

Alfred pulled a blunt from his mouth and let out a cloud of smoke as he stared at Arthur with lidded eyes. He swallowed hard. 

“U-Uhm, I don’t smoke...” Logan pushed himself off of the ground and approached him. 

“Well, that’s never stopped anyone, now, has it?” He grabbed Arthur’s arm then and began leading him towards the rest of the smokers. “Hey, everybody, this is Arthur, he’s a friend, so go easy on him.” 

The students merely nodded to him. Logan let go of his arm and sat back down in the dirt. It was at that moment when Arthur found himself less than a yard away from Alfred. Alfred gazed at him for a moment before holding up his blunt as an offering. Arthur all too accepting as he allowed his mouth to fall open and the roach to push past his lips. He took in the air and let out a cloud of exhaust once Alfred pulled it away. Suddenly, the smog clouded his lungs and Arthur couldn’t help but let out a fit of coughs. Yet, he began to feel the high’s effect, and reached for it again. 

Alfred smiled and returned the joint, and in only a few moments, Arthur was pressed against his chest as they shared a blunt. 

Before they knew it, the two of them were sitting on the ground, completely absorbed in each other’s touch, and, not to mention, high. Arthur lay atop Alfred’s form, cuddled up against his chest and breathing short, light breaths. 

“I need,” Arthur paused for a moment to breath. “More of this…” 

Alfred smiled at the sky as he ran his fingers through Arthur’s dusty blond locks. “I’ll buy all of it for you.” Arthur chuckled breathlessly. Then, he suddenly whined. 

“I missed you,” He whimpered, burying his face into Alfred’s jacket. “I missed you holding me. Francis just isn’t the same…” 

The American kissed the top of Arthur’s hair. “I’d do anything for you, ya know. You know that, right?” 

Arthur turn to face Alfred curiously. “You would?” He asked. “Anything?” 

“Yes, anything. I’m sorry for what I did.” 

“You are?” Arthur questioned in disbelief. Suddenly, his eyes welled his tears. “You really are?”

Alfred nodded and nuzzled Arthur’s neck lovingly. Arthur let out a shaky sigh in return. 

“I would do anything for you,” The American confessed. “I’d buy the world, I’d hold you every night-- I’d even  _ kill  _ for you. I wouldn’t do that for anyone else, Artie, just you. The people bothering me because of Ivan isn’t the same thing, but for you, I’d let the world burn.” He was crying hysterically now. “Let me back in, please, I made a mistake. I made an awful mistake. I feel so empty without you…” Alfred pulled away with tears in his eyes, gasping with sobs. 

Arthur bit his lip. “What about Francis…?” 

“I’ll kill him too!” Alfred shouted. 

“Damn, that’s hardcore.” Logan chuckled from the trashcan. Alfred ignored him. 

“But please don’t make me. I just want you back.” 

“I don’t know if I can…” Arthur averted his eyes. 

“Do you love me?” Alfred asked. 

Arthur hesitated for a second before nodding. “Y-Yes…”

“Then what’s stopping you?” Alfred questioned. “Francis? Kiku? Everyone else? I told you, I can take care of that.” 

“I don’t want them to die..” Arthur began to feel a wave a tiredness sweep over him, but he continued. “Just give me some time.” He began to rest his head on Alfred’s chest. “I just… Need… To think…” And everything went dark.

 

Hours later, but before the sun went down, Arthur awoke beneath bed sheets in his cabin. He sat up from his bed, eyes moving over the other students with a yawn. Kiku glanced up from his manga. 

“Sleep well?”

Arthur rubbed his eyes. “Yes.” 

_ Alfred still cares.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop~ Whoop~ What will Arthur decide to do?


	16. Forgiveness and Remorse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred makes an effort to earn Arthur's forgiveness.  
> Tino tells Emil the truth behind his crime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi~ I'm so late;; Sorry.. I've been busy as of late with some things with my love interest... But that doesn't matter, haha! Anyways, read on, my child. It is to be a fluffy (yet angsty) chapter of sorts.

The next day was spent doing even more boring things than the last. Students, instead of hiking, or resting, even, were stuck behind classroom walls, as it was raining heavily outside. At least they weren’t in maths, but it was possible that even mathematics could have been more enjoyable than learning the history of the European Polecat. Alfred debated this as he sat in that very classroom. At first, he was excited. At least, he had been the night before. 

The night before, Alfred snuck out of his dorm again. He left to find more information, yet again; information that would tell him what classes Arthur would be in. He ended up finding out that he would go to every class with Francis, so being the the noble hero he was, he decided to switch Arthur out with some nameless face in his own class. But he hadn’t shown up. What a let down.

“And that’s why it is known commonly as the forest polecat!” The camp-assigned teacher clapped her hands together enthusiastically. “Any questions?” 

The room was so silent, you could hear the rain slapping against the metal roof. The teacher waited a few moments before moving on the the next topic of discussion. “Okay, moving on… The wren!” 

Just then the door opened, causing everyone to sigh in relief (everyone was hoping it was a teacher telling them that the storm was so bad that they had to go to their cabins), but they soon groaned, as their hopes were thrown away when the door opened and revealed no one other than Arthur Kirkland himself. Alfred immediately perked up upon seeing him and called him over with wave of his hand and a “Psst.” 

Arthur folded his umbrella and met his eyes, immediately blushing.

“Artie,” Alfred whispered as Arthur hung his coat up. “Artie, hey!” 

“I’m coming,” Arthur whispered back, avoiding Alfred’s gaze. He stored his umbrella next and awkwardly made his way towards Alfred’s spare seat. 

“Hey, Artie,” Alfred grinned as he rested his arm on the back of Arthur’s chair. 

“Alfred,” Arthur nodded. 

“I missed you, ya know,” Alfred said. 

“Yes, I know,” Arthur replied. 

“Do you really forgive me?” Alfred suddenly asked as he stared at Alfred intently. “Or did you just say that because you were high?”

Arthur kept his eyes pointed toward the front of the room, saying nothing for a while, before finally sighing and asking the question, “Did you switch me into this class?” 

Alfred chuckled lightly. “Yes,” He answered. “Does that mean you forgive me?”   
The Brit was quiet for some time before answering. He tugged at the sleeve of his uniform. “I won’t ever forget what you did, Alfred.” He turned to meet his eyes with another sigh. “But I also can’t forget the good moments. Just give me some time, please? And don’t switch my classes again.” 

Alfred did a small salute and winked at his British counterpart. “You got it, captain.” 

Arthur rose an eyebrow as he brought his thermos to his lips. “Captain?”   
Alfred shrugged. “Sounds cool, I guess.” 

Arthur scoffed. “Right. Let’s just listen to this drivel, alright?”

The American nodded with a grin and turned to face the teacher. It was only a minute before Alfred’s eyes lit up. He turned back over to Arthur and suddenly nuzzled his neck. Arthur yelped.

“Wh-What was that for?!” He shouted in a hushed voice.

Alfred just simpered and put a finger to his lips. “Shh, the teacher is speaking.” 

 

==

 

A few hours later, in the mess hall, Emil was picking up a tray from the conveyor belt when a “psst, Emil!” came from a table in the corner of the room. He turned around, meeting eyes with Mathias Kohler, who was waving him over. Emil let out an exasperated sigh.

He walked over to the table with a neutral expression. Mathias grinned and patted the seat to the right of him. 

“Heya, Emmi~ Wanna sit with us?” 

Emil blinked. “I don’t really have a choice, do I?” Mathias shook his head, and Emil sighed again. “Whatever, then.” 

The blond sat with the others and began impaling blocks of orange jello with a fork. 

“Emil,” Tino frowned at him as he crossed his arms. “Good to see you.” 

“Yeah, Emil!” Lukas turned his head away from Mathias for a moment to wave at him. “Good to see you.” 

Emil watched Mathias and Lukas return to their previous state; flirting obnoxiously whilst placing small kisses on each other’s skin. He dropped his fork to his tray. “Is there a reason why you want me here?”

Lukas shrugged as Mathias moved to his neck. “None in particular.” He gasped when Mathias reached a sensitive spot. “You’re--  _ uh _ \-- you’re family--  _ nn~! _ ” He pulled Mathias closer, and it was clear then that he was out of the conversation.

“How am I family?” Emil asked Tino. 

“You know our darkest secret,” He answered. Emil suddenly stood up from his chair.

“You made me  _ kill someone _ !” The lunchroom suddenly went quiet, but they were lucky. Nobody had heard what he had said last. However, Tino glances around nonetheless. 

“We didn’t make you,” Tino glared, voice low. “You could’ve left.” 

People around the room were whispering now-- whispering gossip of Emil and the other Nordics. 

“I didn’t mean to kill her,” Emil replied. “Mathias-- He… I didn’t…” 

“You killed him,” Tino confirmed. “No matter how you twist it. No matter how it’s contorted… You killed that girl-- and you robbed Li of any happiness he could’ve had with you.” 

Emil left on the brink of tears. 

 

“Really, Tino?” Mathias had moved to Lukas’s chest now, and was working on unbuttoning his shirt. “Did you have to shatter his dreams like that?”

Tino just shrugged. “He deserved the truth.” 

 

_ “Sakura Honda has now been missing for seven weeks. The school in which she had disappeared from, Carolina Academy, and her parents, have decided to give up their search and mark her as  _ **_deceased._ ** _ ” -- Excerpt from The Guardian (of London, Great Britain.) _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop~ Whoop~ Why do I do this? Lol new chapter probably will be coming out today. Who knows, though? I might procrastinate again.. (I'll try.)


	17. Love is Life or Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gilbert wakes Ivan up in the middle of the night and takes him on a journey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY SO I KNOW I SAID I WOULD POST IT YESTERDAY BUT I TYPED UP HALF OF THIS OFFLINE ON A DIFFERENT COMPUTER THAT I COULDN'T ACCESS UNTIL TODAY SO I COULDN'T. ANYWAYS, HERE'S IT NOW, FORGIVE ME, YOUNG SUGAR PLUMS.

“Ivan,” Gilbert whispered, shaking said Russian’s sleeping form. “Wake up. Hey, wake up.” Ivan propped himself up off his bed with a groggy yawn. 

“ Kto tam…” He blinks a few times before focusing. “Gilbert?” He said, confused. Gilbert pressed his lips into a thin line. “What are you doing up? It is late…” 

“I need to show you something.” Gilbert stood up as he pulled on Ivan’s arm. “Get up, it needs to be before dawn.” 

“Why…?” Ivan yawned again, this time, whilst rubbing his eyes with a fist. 

“Don’t ask any questions,” The Prussian snapped. “Just get up, put on your robe, and follow me.” 

Ivan stared at him for a moment before complying reluctantly. He nodded, and Gilbert finally let go of his arm, allowing him to move freely. Ivan walked on the floorboards to his robe and slippers silently. He stepped into said slippers, and began to slip into his robe clumsily. Gilbert looked over at him from the door and sighed, exasperated. 

He came over to him and helped him into the wrap. Ivan stared at him with wide eyes. “Thank you,” He mumbled, almost inaudibly. Gilbert replied with a scoff and a harsh tug of the robe’s tie. 

“Come on,” He muttered. “Follow me.” Gilbert opened the wooden door of their room cautiously, and led him to the front door. On the way to said door, and while Ivan’s eyes attempted to adjust to the darkness, the Russian manages to run straight into a couch, despite Gilbert pulling him along by his arm.

“ _ Gott _ !” Said Albino spun around, pressing his finger against his lips angrily. “Idiot,” He growled. “Don’t be so loud!” 

“Sorry,” Ivan replied, voice hushed to the point where you could barely hear it.

“Tch…” Ivan watched Gilbert’s eyebrow twitch. He grabbed his hand and began to pull him back towards the front door. “Come on…”   
The two step out of the cabin and begin to walk towards the forest. Ivan stood back for a moment while Gilbert scaled the area-- as if they were escaping from a prison instead of a room in summer camp-- but before he knew it, Gilbert was waving him over, and they were both disappearing behind the trees. 

It was about ten minutes into the walk when somebody talked. That somebody, of course, being Ivan. He asked where they were going. Gilbert gave no reply. He asked him again, and Gilbert just hissed at him to be quiet. Ivan did so, and dropped the subject. Another ten minutes later, and Ivan spoke again. This time it was commenting on the weather. Gilbert shrugged, but Ivan continued to speak. This eventually caused Gilbert to snap.

“Shut up, will you?!” He yanked on Ivan’s arm, causing the Russian to let out a yelp. He continued to walk, his grip tightened. 

“Oww…” Ivan whined. “Hey, you’re hurting me.” 

“Suck it up,” Gilbert snarled. Ivan pouted, and was about to obey once again, but something inside him managed to snap as well. He pulled his arm away from Gilbert’s grip and jumped back, planting his feet in the ground.

“No!” He shouted. “I don’t have to! I came with you, and you’re just treating me like trash!” He felt his arms twitch at his side. “I’m going back-- I hate being treated like this!” Ivan turned around and began to leave, but Gilbert spoke again, and he stopped in his tracks.

“That’s funny because you let Alfred do the same thing, but worse!” 

Ivan stopped, thinking for a moment before stomping his foot and whirling back around to shout in Gilbert’s face. “You don’t know anything! You only know rumors!” 

“Rumors?!” Gilbert was practically fuming now. He clenched his fists at his sides. “You--You know what he does! But you just take it! Like some abused housewife!” 

“You’re wrong!” Ivan cried. “You’re wrong, you don’t know! He loves me, really!” 

“He doesn’t! You’re such an idiot! You retard, he’s abusing you! He’s manipulating you-- fuckin’ up your mind-- and you can’t even see what he's doing! He abuses you! He manipulates you! You're such a fucking idiot. He doesn't deserve you!”

“There's nobody else!” Ivan yelled. “He's the only one who would love me! Even if he doesn't, despite it all, it's better than nothing! Who else would love me?!” 

Gilbert’s face, by now, was crimson from shouting and from blush. He realized that they were arguing, but still could not help but be turned on. Ivan looked amazing when he was angry… All sweaty and pink-faced. It wasn't only hot, it was cute too. “Retard!” Gilbert shouted. 

“Don't call me a re--” Just then, Gilbert grabbed Ivan by the collar of his robe, pulling him close and cutting him off, and with his eyebrows scrunched together and his eyes squeezed shut, he pressed his lips harshly against Ivan’s. “Mmph!” Ivan grunted, yet Gilbert did not stop, but instead held his face and continued. Mind you, there was no tongue involved just yet. Ivan, at first held himself limply in Gilbert’s hold, not yet absorbed in his touch, but it didn't take long before he pulled away with a gasp and kissed Gilbert roughly. It was the Prussian’s turn to let out a sound of surprise, but he immediately pulled Ivan closer by his neck, and was soon moaning softly into said Russian’s mouth. He pushed his tongue past Ivan’s lips, and licked the inside of his mouth inexpertly, but luckily, it didn’t take Ivan long before he had full control of the kiss.

Now, Ivan had plenty of experience. He remembered before he and Alfred had began dating, when the only knowledge he had of kissing was from being unexpectedly kissed by a girl in France. He still didn’t know what that was about, but he assumed it was either a French thing, or she was dared to do it. But Alfred taught him more than that. Alfred was his first  _ real  _ first. His first  _ real  _ kiss and his first  _ real  _ time. Alfred had given him so much. That was why Ivan refused to see the truth: Alfred was manipulating him. 

But the topic of their argument was long forgotten as Ivan felt Gilbert’s fingers bury in his hair, that tugged each time he felt too overwhelmed with feeling, when he moaned desperately, and opened his mouth wider, allowing more to be touched. At this moment, to say the least, Gilbert allowed everything to be done to unto him and more. 

It felt different, Ivan had thought. He was so used to being the dominated; being the one who  _ got  _ felt, that he never knew there was a latter. Now that he did know, he couldn’t help but notice how much better it made him, and, not to mention, Gilbert, feel. These emotions were the very things that made him question just what Alfred did for him, as he recalled events in which Alfred seemed to only think and do for himself. He remembered feeling uncomfortable, but also feeling to afraid to say anything. Then he remembered what Gilbert had said during their argument, and he began to feel multiple shooting pains in his head. It eventually became to much, so he pulled away in the chance that he would ruin Gilbert’s (likely first) experience. 

Ivan backed away with a gasp, and Gilbert attempted to follow him, but Ivan took some more steps back, holding his hands in front of him.

“What is it?” Gilbert asked, concerned. “Did I do something wrong?” 

_ Only worried for me… How is he like this?  _

Ivan shook his head with a strained smile. “N-No… Just a migraine.” 

“Now?” Gilbert stared at his mop of messy hair. “Want me to check it?” 

Ivan shrugged, thinking that it’d do no harm. “Help yourself.” 

Gilbert stepped back over to him. He pushed back his thick, platinum blond hair as he inspected the skin below. Ivan heard a small gasp. “What is it?” The Russian asked. “Did you find something?” 

Gilbert was silent. 

“A tick? Lice? A wound?” 

“Ivan…” Gilbert backed away with his hand over his mouth. “Your… Head…” He met Ivan’s eyes with his own, glossed over ones. “Your head is covered with bruises…” 

Ivan blinked at him in disbelief. “Bruises? How many?”

“Dozens,” Gilbert answered. Suddenly, he pulled his hands from his mouth and lifted up Ivan’s shirt. Said Russian let out a breathy gasp. “There’s more here!” Ivan looked down to see for himself, only to find that what he was saying was true. His mind searched for answers, but none came. He had no explanation for his bruises, but he knew what Gilbert would do. He would blame Alfred. He had better come up with a solution to this, and soon. 

“I must have been mugged,” He explained. “I heard that sometimes the mind blocks out things you don’t want to remember. Maybe that happened.” 

Gilbert looked up from Ivan’s bruised abdomen with wide, watery eyes. “No,” He croaked. “That’s not what happened, and you know it.” 

A sad expression came over Ivan’s face. “Gilbert…” 

“Maybe you don’t remember, but you have to know he did something!” It was still, and quiet, for a long while before Ivan made the slightest movement. 

He tried to shake his head and say something, but the words, as well as his body, was frozen. He couldn’t move. His legs began to tremble, and eventually, the rest of him was doing the same. 

“Please remember,” Gilbert cried. “Nothing can happen until you remember!” 

“But he couldn’t have,” Ivan had said-- but he quickly realized that he only thought that. He bit his tongue. 

“Ivan,” Gilbert begged. Ivan was silent. He but stared at him with eyes the size of saucers that were well near the point of overflowing with tears. “Ivan!” Gilbert shouted again. 

The younger boy suddenly couldn’t take anymore, and snatched Ivan’s hand. He pulled him deeper into the forest, and it was only a few minutes before they stopped. 

Gilbert let go and spun back around, running back to the cabins. Ivan watched him go, but made no move to run after him. He turned around, and found himself facing a clearing. In this clearing was a field of sunflowers. A note was stuck on the tree. 

_ “Denk über dich nach.” _

_ (Think about you.) _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone needs more RusPrus~  
> (Whoop~ Whoop~ Everything's slowly unraveling. Whoop~ Whoop~ Alfred is probably screwed now~)

**Author's Note:**

> Iceland: Emil Steillson  
> Liechtenstein: Lilli Zwingli  
> Seychelles: Michelle Mancham  
> Russia: Ivan Braginsky  
> Hong Kong: Li Xiao Chun
> 
> Time mentioned: 13.30 = 1:30 PM  
> (hint: subtract 12 from numbers 13 and over on the hour side, and add twelve to the hour when the number is 0.__ Always leave the minute side alone. . = : When the numbers are 00-11, it is morning/AM) Need more help with times? Search up military time, and you should find out more!


End file.
